


Take Root

by bigcatsandkatanas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Comic Book Spoilers, Friendships are super important too, M/M, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, neither Jesus or Daryl die fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6159067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigcatsandkatanas/pseuds/bigcatsandkatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most nights Daryl doesn't dream but when he does he thinks of someone easing the burden. Someone to stroke his hair and tell him it'll be alright. And for the first time in his life, he'd believe it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (From the Ashes I'd Rise)

**Author's Note:**

> I jump around in Jesus and Daryl's timelines offering a series of vignettes to give a greater picture of how their relationship stands and how it'll eventually grow. I get inside their heads a bit so it can get pretty dark.

Daryl’s arms were sore, his heart pounding--trying to catch each breath as he swung, one walker after another falling to the ground. The corpse of a woman was at his feet, his knife lodged into her brain.

He shut his eyes,  _ don’t think like that, whoever she was,was long gone _ . 

But that wasn’t true the more he thought of it. She was a fresh walker, the bite wounds on her neck still red and bleeding. He was searching for her face, searching until he reached a conclusion...she was an Alexandrian. 

_ Great. _ Not long ago he’d walk past her house while making the rounds, avoiding eye contact when she’d kindly wave. She was a stranger, like the rest of them. It was easier that way. With a satisfying crack he was able to pull the knife back out

The herd was thinning, he moved the hair out of his eyes focusing on the flame at the heart of Alexandria. The silhouettes of the walkers stumbling towards their demise, walking forward without a single thought. It affected him with a frightening uncertainty, like he suddenly could feel the earth turning, like he could walk into that lake himself. 


	2. The Fortress

A little bit of hope. A little bit of certainty. Maybe some freedom from worry. The Hilltop was at an advantage, somewhat. If things were different, possibly things could be easier than living day by day. Jesus sat at the top of it all. He sometimes wondered why the name Jesus stuck, it was probably more than his looks. Munching on a cold dinner roll, he looked out to the empty dirt road, at the greenery that extended beyond what he could make of the horizon. Shadows growing larger as the sun began to set. 

 

“Are you leaving tonight or in the morning,” a voice called to him from behind. “I’m here to relieve you from your post.”

 

“Hey Kal. Hmm. Morning. Well depends…” Paul dropped his head, dusting the crumbs off himself. 

 

“Depends on if you can sleep or not?” Kal sounded concerned, holding his mighty spear in hand. “Hey uh...I know Gregory never says anything...much less appreciates what you do, but everyone else around here--” 

 

“No it’s okay,” Jesus weakly smiled, wearily leaving his post. “Believe me, I know. There’s always muffins in front of my door every morning, whether I want them or not.” 

 

\------------

How far had he walked before he heard their voices? Two men were mumbling low to one another. It had been a few days of silence, mulling over things he rather not think about. He had been coming up short, rolling the dice and ending up with snake eyes each time. Sometimes he worried about coming home and finding nothing left. But there was no one else who could do a job as good as he could, so he was forced to live with it. He had a sworn duty to his people.

Treading slowly he climbed up a tree to get a better look. Straddling one of the branches, he leaned down, resting his chin on the bark, focusing on them. They were standing around some metal thing from what he could make of it. Jesus squinted. A vending machine.

_ Okay _ . He couldn’t help but laugh. 

The one with the broad arms and the sandy blonde hair seemed to be persistent about getting it open.

Who are they?

Better yet who was he? 

They didn’t seem too smart, they looked like two cavemen trying to get a safe open. 

Despite the situation offering him a chuckle or two, he didn’t concern himself with so many questions, he had other things in mind, the truck they drove full of supplies being one of them. With a mischievous smile on his lips he pulled out a handful of firecrackers. 

This was shaping out to be one of his better days.

Things were going to get interesting.

 

\---------

“You’re going to have to sit in back, Daryl.”

 

“Why t’hell,” haphazardly he threw Jesus into the backseat.

 

“Easy there,” Rick grimaced as if they didn’t tire themselves out from chasing this waifish man. Daryl’s mouth was gaping, eyes slits as he furrowed his brow.

 

“It’s not like he didn’t set us back a couple of days,” he grunted, positioning Jesus in a more comfortable position, “Satisfied?”

 

“Yes,” Rick smiled. 

 

He was totally fucking with him and maybe if Daryl could afford a sense of humor, he’d laugh but no not today, especially not today with this piece of shit riding with him in the back seat. From the rearview mirror he could see Rick giving him a concerned look, instantly Daryl felt a pang of guilt in his chest but he was completely justified. Rick was being the crazy one. 

 

Just seconds ago Daryl had considered slamming the door before getting inside but for Rick’s sake, he chose not to. 

 

\--------

Maybe he was tired of the tug of war going on, or maybe Rick’s words really got to him, Daryl wasn’t sure why he felt this way. 

 

He filled a glass full of water, then paused, propping himself up against the sink. He was the one who suggested giving Jesus some, it was common courtesy. The second they got there, Daryl drank water straight from the faucet, so he assumed Jesus had every reason to be thirsty too. He was proving a point to Rick that he could be accommodating whether or not he wanted to let him in. Or at least that’s what he thought he was doing. But whatever it was, it was temporary and they’d ask him questions, get their answers and send him on his way.  

Nothing was ever that easy though, he just wished it could be. 

This Jesus guy was a different kind of animal entirely. 

 

A weasel? He was cunning, annoying… a racoon? _ No. _ A fox?  _ Perfect. _ He was a fox.

 

Daryl let out a satisfied grunt.  _ Fine _ , a fox. He could handle a fox.

 

\----

Another obstacle, more things to protect. Rick drove the RV away from the Hilltop. Everything was so calm and quiet, they were living a silent victory. 

Daryl thought of the man he almost was, the man he dreamt of being. It had been a while since he had gone to that place, to that cabin, to pressing the heat of a cigarette against his bare flesh. But seeing Rick and Michonne, he hadn’t really thought about it except it appeared to be the thing everyone seemed to be talking about even if they weren’t using words. They’d say it with their eyes, their knowing smiles. It was bound to happen and it did.

Daryl ached. He didn’t want to go there. They hit a bump on the road, he flinched, he was still thinking about that baby in Maggie’s belly, those stupid questions Abe had asked, like something out of a Cosmo magazine. It was hitting him so hard--the expectation of living a full life after surviving the worst. 

Everyone moved on. Of course they do. That’s what people do, they move the fuck on. But there was Daryl, in a standstill. In between here and there.

He was a husk of himself, a frightened animal still licking his wounds. 

He felt eyes on him, piercing ones, concerned ones. Maggie and Glenn had fallen asleep, Abe was still looking out the window, Michonne’s mind elsewhere. But there was Jesus, watching him attentively. Round blues, all knowing, somewhat invasive, in a warm sort of way. It stirred him.

 

“What t’hell are you looking at,” Daryl hissed. 

 

Jesus looked away almost immediately, knowing he had crossed a line.  

  
Daryl wasn’t sure why he felt so guilty for striking out like that. Not too long ago he had punched that guy square in the jaw. Instead of apologizing, he just covered his face and closed his eyes for the remainder of the ride. 


	3. What Makes the World Go Round

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments, it really keeps me going! This chapter is a little more light-hearted, so enjoy. x

It was a fact that suffering sucked. It really did. But if something good came out of it, was that the little things were so much more poignant. Overlooked stuff from the past that was always taken for granted, a toothbrush, a water cooler, a can of Chef Boyardee on a dusty shelf, a roll of toilet paper. All of those things were suddenly great, he appreciated the hell out of them but honestly as far as things go, he’d always want so much more. It was basic human nature.

Lingering touches, suggestive glances, he was finding himself living for that very thing and he was finding it right there with Daryl Dixon of all people. It was probably going nowhere, that was the reality of it, and it was a truth Jesus kept reminding himself. But still his endorphins were working on overdrive, his heart was pounding and their eyes always seemed to find each other. Those milliseconds reminded him of why he always chose to live, why life was worth living. However long it’d last, Daryl would always been the one to break it, leaving Jesus doubting himself each time, wondering if the connection was real or not.

Despite it being an otherwise useless routine, Jesus indulged in it almost subconsciously, magnetically. He couldn’t help it, he just found him interesting, attractive and mysterious and a million other things that he couldn’t get enough of. Daryl clearly wasn’t used to the attention, maybe it just wasn’t in his nature.

Or maybe he really was just a piece of shit? He chuckled at the thought. _ Naw. _

Jesus let it go before listening to Rick speak again. They were sitting around a campfire, usually Jesus did this alone, it was nice to have company for once. These were outdoorsy people, not one complaint out of any of them.

“And well—we just recently had a lot on our dish. We had some group called the Wolves come in and kill our people and it didn’t take long before the walkers we were trying to lure away broke in. We gave it all we got and cleared up every last one of them, losing a good few,” Rick licked his lips, then sighed before continuing on, “ Meanwhile our boy Daryl came across a couple of Negan’s men and blew them the hell up,” Rick grinned, patting Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl was eating and he grunted, moving himself away from Rick’s touch. “And with a rocket launcher of all things.”

“Well balls, I was the one who found it. I could have easily been the hero,” Abe added in brazenly but it looked like everyone else in the group was used to it, no one seemed to react. Jesus beamed. The warmth and openness was contagious. He felt like he was home already.

“Sounds like a story you’ll tell your kids and your kid’s kids will tell their kids,” Jesus said with bright eyes. “You always have to be in the pit of darkness to really see the light. You’re all so inspiring.”

Daryl scoffed. And Jesus sat up, cocking his brow.

“What,” Jesus asked trying to get a read on him. “What was that?”

“You’re full of shit,” Daryl grunted bluntly.

“Hey,” Rick intervened.

“Yeah you sound like you’re reading something out of some damn fortune cookie.”

“Maybe,” Jesus grinned crookedly, Rick watched him with an amused look on his face. He guessed that Jesus  _ was _ immune to Daryl’s shitty moods. “I found a box of them just the other day, they were stale but tasted good anyway. I miss Chinese food, do you guys miss Chinese food?”

Daryl’s eyes became slits as soon as he realized he didn’t get the reaction he wanted. He crammed another spoonful of beans into his mouth as he observed Jesus being his kind, chatty self, and the rest of the crew instantly in love with him.

It was annoying as all hell. 

\----------

Eventually as the night wore on Daryl excused himself to survey the surrounding area in case there were any walkers headed in their direction. It was growing silent, everyone’s conversations gradually fading the further into the woods he went. Nearly startling him, he heard leaves crushed under the weight of a shoe, he turned almost immediately pointing his gun at Jesus.

“Hold on,” he raised his hands in alarm, Daryl immediately put down his weapon, letting out a disgruntled noise. “How many times has your gun been in my face already,” he smiled, tilting his head sideways but as usual the smile wasn’t returned. Daryl just shrugged.

“I dunno.”

“Finally words out of you,” no response from Daryl, Jesus continued, “I can sense a cold shoulder. I get it, you don’t like strangers just coming in.”

“I ain’t got a problem with you.”

“Really,” Jesus’ voice dropped sarcastically. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Daryl held his lips tightly, his gaze raised to Jesus’ for a split second before looking away, “Not everyone has to like you. Just leave it.”

“Oh. So you don’t like me?” 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Alright, then. You don’t need to say anything more,” his voice grew softer as he blinked slowly, “I’ll take ambiguity then. Anyway I thought we’d talk since I like to be on even ground with everyone.” 

Daryl watched him curiously, maybe a little repulsed at the mere thought. Who the hell goes around asking people if they’re friends or not? 

“And I’ll respect you’re not a big talker,” Jesus walked around him, shrugging then tucking his hands into his trench coat pockets. “Neither am I, I just like to lay things out and figure out if there’s any problems before we encounter them.” 

“I’m not a wild card if that’s what you’re saying, ask the rest of them!”

“Woah, I’m not pointing fingers. You know what you’re doing and you lay your life on the line without a single thought. That’s an admirable trait you’ve got there.”

“Well that’s what we do here. I ain’t special.” 

There was that pause, a long pause, a dreaded pause. Jesus was watching Daryl with a strange look in his eyes, Daryl had seen glimpses of it several times before but it didn’t make it any less unnerving. It was so much more intense now that they were alone. Jesus blinked slowly, his lip curving upwards. “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” The tenderness in his voice was what got him. 

Daryl’s heart pounded hard in his chest, his palms sweating, his knees tingling, he didn’t know how to respond. Immediately he looked away, lips tightly together, wiping his hands on his pants. He forgot how to breathe, suddenly. How to stand normally, how to say anything coherent. Instead he needed to find a way to escape. “I uh--gotta piss,” Daryl grunted before walking out on the other man.

“Okay,” Jesus laughed. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Fuck off,” Daryl grumbled to himself, wiping tears out of his eyes. He must have gotten dirt or something in them, or maybe it was allergies. It really didn’t matter.  He just wanted it to go away.


	4. Just stay

Alone Daryl sits. The porch light flickers, it goes out. Daryl doesn’t stir, he has his weapon beside him, always prepared. He lit a cigarette, the flicker then the flame illuminates some of his features before dimming out. The smoke spread before dissipating. He was lost in a sea of thoughts, one more haunting than the other.

A one syllable word the loudest than the rest.

W-A-R.

Every single one of them put at risk, Jesus could read him so loud and clear. The weight of the entire world on his shoulders and he was willing to carry it as long as his body would let him. Jesus was in his room cleaning his gun, the window wide open, and although Alexandria wasn’t his permanent home, the residents were kind enough to offer him some plain pieces of furniture. More like a couple chairs and a table.  The chair and table were positioned right near the window so he could keep watch.

Was it for safety or otherwise? Jesus didn’t really care. He ran his hand through his hair, his hand smelling of gunpowder and metal.

The silence was deafening. Daryl was the very definition of alone. But it was his own choice. He had plenty of friends to talk to but he consciously chose to stay outside when everyone was in, he chose to stay in the dark when the rest were in the light.

That very thought troubled Jesus. He put down his gun giving Daryl one lingering look before closing the window.

His legs felt heavier with each step up he took until he was standing at Rick’s porch, Daryl’s figure shifting in the darkness.

“Hey,” Jesus said warmly, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

“Rick’s inside,” Daryl muttered, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“I’m not looking for Rick,” he nervously chuckled.

“Then there ain’t nothing for you here,” he pulled in his legs closer to his torso.

“If you think you can call me on my bullshit, I can call you on yours. You know as well as I do.”

“Well I haven’t gotten the slightest—“

“Is it one of those nights,” Jesus let himself slide down to Daryl’s level, sitting on the porch, stretching his legs out.

Daryl was silent for a moment before grunting.

“Yes or—“ Jesus smiled.

“If you think I need to chat—“

“No,” Jesus looked forward, blinking slowly. “You need company though.”

“I don’t,” Daryl said sternly, his voice quivering, giving his vulnerability away. He put out his cigarette, laying his hand down next to Jesus’.

Jesus looked down, seeing Daryl lowering his defenses for a split second, it was an open window and he went for it not entirely sure of the ramifications, not that he really cared either, he could handle it. He could handle Daryl. His hand moved until his palm rested on top of Daryl’s.

He felt the intake of breath coming from the other man, Jesus shot him a concerned look but Daryl moved his gaze away from him, allowing this to happen. Jesus wasn’t about to push him further, he felt his heart flutter and sink all at the same time. He gave Daryl’s hand a gentle squeeze before moving it away, the warmth still lingering when they were apart.

“Food for thought, but I’m here for you,” Jesus said softly. “If you do decide to talk.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“You and I got no roots.”

“I don’t know why,” smirked Jesus, his eyes glossy. “Does there need to be a reason for everything?” He overlooked Daryl’s face, adoring his features. “There’s a lot of strength to wearing your heart on your sleeve. I’ve seen a lot of people lose themselves along the way until they fall apart, taking a pick to their humanity until they’re just like the biters. Walking around, just surviving—they’re empty vessels of who they used to be.”

“Shit,” Daryl said solemnly, “That’s me.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Don’t act like you know. You don’t know shit,” it was a knee-jerk reaction and Jesus was getting comfortable enough to know Daryl didn’t mean to react this way.

“I know you need someone to say the things I’m saying. And I’m more than happy to be the person saying them,” there was a beat before Jesus tried to lighten things, “You can punch me if you want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re wha—“ Jesus wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. Daryl slumped and wiped his eyes.

“For punching you. You deserved it though. I almost left you up a tree, just cause you pissed me off.”

“Oh,” grinned the other man, “That’s reasonable, I did steal your things. Anyways it’s so far behind us.”

“It’s just…I used to know, who was bad, who wasn’t. If it wasn't for Rick…”

“Well I suppose we should both be thanking Rick then.”

 Daryl stared at his knees, awkwardly clutching at his pants until his knuckles turned white. He let out a low chuckle when he let go of the grip, “Heh, yeah.”


	5. Postmortem

Daryl was under the influence, under some sort of spell. When things got dark and hell—they were dark, he’d curl up into the fetal position. He was always the runt of the bunch, hiding when things got too tough, sticking close to Merle, eventually getting lost when he was gone.

“Watching people come and go, that was always a thing we’d deal with right? Even before…all of this. You carry it with you don’t you? Their ghosts follow you and you feel like you need to do more, be more until it just sort of ends. Don’t think about that. She came back, that’s all that should matter right now.”

He pulled his knees closer, crickets chirping nearby. Jesus’ words stayed with him. He closed his eyes, holding in the tears, trying to control the trembling in his body. His heart was ready to burst. He kept backtracking, inhaling Carol deep as he buried his head in her neck, holding her small form close. Talking to Jesus underneath a tree as he watched Rick embracing Carol, then Michonne doing the same.

Glenn never letting go of Maggie.

Jesus rubbed the small of Daryl’s back soothingly. “It’s okay. We’re okay,” he said with the utmost certainty.

It was all too close for comfort. They barely made it out alive. Carol was smart but what if her luck was running thin, what if they were reaching the end? Daryl didn’t have curse words on his tongue, “Yeah?” he had blinked away the tears in his eyes, his voice small and mousy like a small child.

“Yeah,” Jesus swallowed, then nodded.

When the dreams came in the midst of all, he thought of Jesus with his gloves off, the contact of his skin against his as he reached out. Jesus holding Daryl’s face in his hands. Daryl shook awake staring at his own rough hands. He let go of any dignity, he was alone, he was scared. He used the back of his hand to brush up against his cheek, softly, not rough. Not like the punches and kicks he was subjected to. Not like the crack of the belt against his back. Not like the searing of his own flesh by cigarettes. He rubbed up against his hand, his mouth parting slightly, eyes shutting closed, just imagining Jesus’ blue eyes, his warm smile.

The closest thing he could get to a stranger’s touch. Accepting it, letting it fill his heart.

He could feel him laying next to him even if he wasn’t. He needed him, he wanted him there, but the words couldn’t come out of his mouth. He couldn’t find the will to break the fantasy so he indulged in this, whatever pitiful thing this was. 

Darkness and then light. 

That morning when Daryl woke up he noticed from a distance Jesus talking to Rick. Jesus placed his hand on Rick’s shoulder, squeezing it and Rick pat his back before they separated. Daryl approached Rick, a briskness in his step.

“What’s going on?”

“Jesus is headed to the Hilltop to check if his men made it back.”

“Oh,” Daryl’s shoulders dropped. He looked behind Rick to see Jesus lift his gaze as he slung his bag over his arm. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. He gave Daryl a curt wave before turning his back on him. 

Daryl didn’t do a thing. He just stared straight at him and watched him go.

\-----

A million occurrences happened between then and now. There was no going back. Every choice he had made led up to this very moment. 

Surrounded, Daryl was forced on his knees, helplessly watching the rest of the group in the same hopeless position. His mind was racing a mile a minute looking for any opportunity to escape, to finally save the day. He budged but a man was too close behind him. There must have been twenty, thirty of them. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He saw a barrel chested man pace back and forth, he was laughing, he was saying things, frightening things. Daryl heart was pounding so hard, he swore that everyone else could hear it. Negan pointed his barbed wire bat at him, a huge grin on his lips. He tapped it on the ground three times before pointing it at Daryl again.

This could be it. The end.

He welcomed it, but something held him back, a rope tied to his ankle keeping him from just floating away. He saw Jesus again, the same scenario he had dreamt of before. His hands cradling him, those eyes staring so deep, so intimate, like home. Daryl was just so tired already. Hiding underneath the bed, watching his father’s feet pace back and forth just as Negan’s feet did.

“You piece of shit, you fucking dirt bag! Where t’fuck are you, you turd? If I find you it’ll be your last day on earth! You want to know why your whore of a mother checked out early? It’s cause she hated you! You heard me boy! I’ll show you hell! Boy, I’ll show you hell!”

When Daryl opened his eyes he was surprised to see the bat elsewhere, pointed elsewhere. He closed them again, he heard the screaming. The screams, they haunted him, he shook, he tried not to cry. Through his periphery he saw the blood, the gore. One strike, then another, he trembled, he tried so hard to find his breath, the moment passing so quickly. He was filled with anger, with fear, with hopelessness.

And then it was over. The crying fading into soft whimpers.


	6. the healer

They weren’t far from the Hilltop when it happened. Maggie insisted they go on. Glenn would be buried there.

The red was spreading across the white fibers of fabric. Daryl tried to focus on the task at hand, helping Rick lift the body, trying not to step on the pieces of flesh and bone scattered across the ground.

That used to be _someone_.

There was a blank, glossy look in everyone’s eyes. All the things they had seen, all the things they had done. It was weighing heavy on them now.  Daryl’s hair obstructed his line of vision, but it was for the best. He was silent throughout the rest of the trip, one series of events blending into another.

They were past the Hilltop gates, people coming out from every which direction in awe. Every last one of the group should have looked like the breath had been beaten out of them. Daryl didn’t care, he moved in a haze. As soon as he heard voices, Daryl lifted his head looking for a familiar face. Jesus was one of the first people out. His eyes wide, covering his mouth in shock, running to the scene.

As soon as he was alone with Jesus, he felt himself breaking down, feeling everything at once. Daryl wasn’t sure how he ended up in his room, how he was against the wall, sitting on the floor. But there he was. Jesus knelt near him, wiping the sweat and dirt off of his face, brushing his oily hair away.

“What are you doing,” Daryl grumbled, he squinted then tried to brush him off. Jesus moved back, in full view of him. He sat on his legs and sighed.

“I’m taking care of you.”

“Why. I don’t need this,” Daryl said to himself, his words barely audible.

“Look. It’s the most I can do right now. So let me do something,” Jesus sounded so exhausted, he probably hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep either. It must have been hard. Daryl tried to understand, but he had too much on his plate as it is. Jesus had already moved in closer, he dipped the cloth back into the water and was ready to continue when Daryl slapped him off again.

“Fuck off already. “

The younger man dropped his head, the moved his hair back, brushing it to one shoulder and out of his face. He was now clearly frustrated. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah,” Daryl paused, licking his lips, “I do.” He sounded like a child. A wounded child and it only really made Jesus care more.

Jesus dropped his shoulders, his lips parting, the bags under his round blue eyes more prominent. “I should have been there.”

“Yeah you should have—“ Daryl’s voice broke, “And you said—“ He stopped himself, moving his gaze away.

“What?”

“Well you said—“Daryl repeated, biting on his lip, not beginning to realize how nonsensical he sounded. “You’re just a god damned a liar!”

Jesus blinked quickly, then pursed his lips before speaking, needing those extra seconds to construct something, _anything_. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said it was going to be okay. Since when have we ever been okay?”

“Sorry ain’t worth shit! And what’s worse is I just keep thinking. That baby. That little baby in her, in Maggie. That baby didn’t do shit. That baby didn’t ask for any of this!” Daryl felt warm, wet tears falling from his eyes. He wiped them in complete disarray. He was crying in front of Jesus in broad daylight but instead of reacting in disgust, Jesus did something else.

Daryl really should have known better.

That was the thing about love. Whatever it may be, always came from left field, it always left him stunned. His very expertise was thinking fast, being quick on his feet, taking down two, three, four walkers—unarmed—if he had to.  It was what earned him the position of being always at Rick’s side. But here with Jesus, he was all mixed up. The man he thought he was, the man he thought he was capable of being suddenly changed.  He didn’t know who the hell he was anymore.

Jesus held him against his chest, cradling his head as they rocked back and forth. It was in Daryl’s very nature to push him away but he couldn’t, not now. He should have resisted just to soften the blow if they ever reached a point, _that_ point, the very point he dreaded.

A list of names came to mind, a list of people he wished he could have said goodbye to. Memories resurfacing from the deepest depths.

Throwing the dirt on top of Glenn’s grave, Maggie howling and falling to her knees.

Carrying Beth’s lifeless body, the tears streaming out of his eyes.

Getting the strength to get back up on his feet after putting Merle out of his misery.

Grieving over himself. Daryl, then a child, wiping his face, emerging thin and frail from the woods where no one had bothered looking for him in.

He buried his face against Jesus’ white buttoned up shirt. These images coming to him in flashes. The fabric was so thin he could feel the warmth radiating from Jesus’ body. He could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. He could hear his heart beating quickly. This was real. It was all too real and it hit him like a ton of bricks after a few emotional seconds. Daryl had to gather himself up again even if he didn’t want to. “I ain’t usually like this. I don’t—“ Daryl clutched at him, those words were a last fighting effort to be the same man Jesus had met from day one.

“It’s fine. It really is,” he ran his hands through Daryl’s fine hair, firmly pressing his lips on his head without a moment’s hesitation—like it was right—like it was completely in his nature to do so. So pure, so unconditional. Daryl felt himself nearly melt into his embrace, his face flushing whether he wanted it to or not. It was all purely physiological, beyond his control.  And honestly, losing that last bit of restraint felt… _good_.

Still it didn’t last as long as he would have liked it to. Eventually the lines that blended between them had to separate.

“I promise I’ll fight with you,” Jesus said with a fierceness in his eyes. “We will make Negan pay.”

The fire in his eyes burned so bright, Daryl realized that he hadn’t seen him ready to fight until now—he hadn’t yet seen what he was really capable of.


	7. You and I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing makes me happier than seeing this ship growing. thank you for the comments, I love you guys. x

Sometimes when you’re living your life, there’s these moments—big ones—ones that you know you’ll still remember if you have the luxury of dying in a death bed. People always say it’s significant, life changing and maybe that was the case in the very moments Jesus was living in.

Measuring each second beat by beat.

Him and Daryl were fighting off Saviors, the rest of the group alongside them. Daryl had snagged his beloved crossbow back from Dwight, who was now serving as their spy. Jesus had never seen a man so skilled with a weapon.

 _Pow, pow, pow_!

Men were dropping left and right. He was impressed, beyond impressed. Jesus had his own fair share of men dead or dying left in his wake and maybe he had been busy this whole time but he never really had a chance to appreciate the way Daryl fought. It was almost some kind of dance, everyone moving in unison, even Jesus himself was a part of their symphony.

In mid thought a savior eventually tackled Jesus, but he let him get the higher ground only to give himself the freedom to kick him off. The man fell and rolled backwards, cuts and scrapes on his skin, and it took one more kick and he was out. Daryl heard the grunt, and turned to check if he had it handled, Jesus caught his breath and gave him a nod of the head. They continued on. Someone started shooting as they approached the base. Everyone took cover, Daryl and Jesus hiding behind a junked van.

“You got this,” Daryl asked with a shit-eating grin. Jesus’ chest was rising and falling as he held his gun close. His eyes were saucer sized, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

They held their gaze a while longer than they should, but Jesus was easily distracted. He was always keen observer and god, Daryl looked good.

“This is another walk in the park for you isn’t it,” Jesus crookedly smiled, reclining his head against the warm surface of the van, looking a little starry eyed. Daryl couldn’t pick up on it, he was just glad to have a partner in crime.

“It ain’t the first time and it certainly ain’t the last.”

The banter was suddenly broken. Startling the both of them, someone shot the window nearest Jesus, glass flying everywhere. Both Jesus and Daryl ducked, Daryl peered around the corner to see that one of the saviors doing the same. He was about to shoot when Jesus was already aiming over the hood at him. With a satisfying bang, the Jesus delivered a precise shot to the head.

“Well shit,” Daryl muttered.

“Well, I don’t like to brag—“ Jesus stood up confidently, with his hand on his belt. Behind Jesus, someone held a gun to his head. Daryl’s eyes widened. Far off he saw Rick and the crew fighting walkers that had been attracted to the gunfire. They were too busy to even help.

“Weapons down, shit-for-brains,” the savior threatened.

Jesus dropped his gun, raising his hands. Daryl did the same, fear in his eyes, not for his own sake but for Jesus’. His blood grew icy cold. The other man was hardly fazed though, in fact, he grinned.

“Stop smiling and face me,” it clearly put off the savior.

“Alright then,” Jesus took a hold of the man’s arm and twisted it, then kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to fall. As a finishing touch, he slammed his head into the hood of the car, blood spraying everywhere. Daryl covered his face, feeling foolish for even thinking Jesus couldn’t handle himself. “Okay so I do like to brag,” Jesus said with a spark in his eye, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Man, fuck you,” Daryl pointed, then picked up his crossbow.

“Were you worried?”

“I said shut up. Let’s go on and catch up with the others.”

Daryl was up front, Jesus straggling behind. And it wasn’t really because he was a bad runner, he was great, but he liked just watching him stride, admiring his wide shoulders and the way he heroically slung on his crossbow. Joining the group fighting the walkers, Jesus and Daryl just dove in, basking in this small victory.


	8. Time and Place

It was Daryl’s turn to keep watch during the night, he sat on top of a blue ford escort, from probably around the 90s. The point is it still started. Daryl crossed his legs as he stared out into the sky. Jesus approached him, looking upwards, the blue in his eyes as clear as day despite dusk heavily setting in. Without asking if he was intruding he threw his backpack on top of the car and climbed up.

“I found something cool,” Jesus said softly, digging through his bag, rummaging through his things, eventually pulling out a bottle. “Wild turkey sound good to you?”

Daryl snatched it from his hands, looking at the label, then swishing it around before putting it down. Thinking about it, then reaching his decision. “Hmm. Naw.”

“I get it, you don’t want to be under the influence while you keep watch. Yeah? That’s fine, but don’t mind if I do,” he took a swig, hissed, then slammed the bottle down.

There was a moment of silence before Daryl spoke, cocking an eyebrow, “You ain’t foolin’ no one.”

Jesus rubbed his beard, “Eh?”

“Get out of here.”

“You are one confusing fellow.”

“Naw,” Daryl grimaced, “I ain’t.”

“Do you want me around or not,” Jesus stated plainly.

“I dunno, it’s on you.”

“That’s not a very good answer,” sighed out Jesus, running his hands through his hair. “Am I stupid in assuming we’re friends? Did I just imagine the fact that we’ve fought in some pretty scary battles together and had each other’s backs?”

“I never got an answer,” Daryl raised his brow, “What else you got in that bag of yours?”

“A carton of cigarettes.”

“Oh,” suddenly he was interested. Jesus jumped on this opportunity, a cunning look on his face.

“They’re the kind you like,” he pulled them out. “You can fight me for them…or…”

“I hadn’t had a smoke in forever, man,” Daryl nearly whined.

“Okay,” Jesus handed them in his direction but then pulled back as soon as Daryl reached out for the pack. It forced out the most irritated groan from Daryl. “I like you,” Jesus cocked his eyebrow, his eyes warm and genuine. “I like you, a lot.”

Daryl felt his heart skip, he always took the coward’s way out and looked away, the contact was more than he could handle at once, “Yeah, okay,” his pursed his lips, Jesus’ gaze was still baring into his soul. It made him uneasy suddenly, he shifted awkwardly, his eyes focusing on the cheap bourbon for a moment.

“So what do you think about that?”

“I ah—“ Daryl scratched the back of his head and squinted, then looked away at absolutely nothing at all. “Did you hear something?”

Jesus blinked quickly, looking in the path Daryl pointed at before shooting him a doubtful look, “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Probably the wind or some shit,” Daryl crossed his arms tightly. Jesus pulled away, he honestly appeared to be hurt, he was all give and no take. Fiddling with the buttons on his jacket Daryl soaked neck deep in guilt, in frustration that he couldn’t quite return the gesture, whatever it may be. “Naw, I don’t hate you or nothing.”

“Yeah, alright then,” Jesus said with a melancholy in his voice, taking another swig, his shoulders then hunching down, the sun now barely visible in the sky above then. “You’re a lone wolf. I knew from the start how it’d be. It’s always going to be on your terms, I’m fine with that really. I don’t need to ask you questions why you’re the way you are just like you don’t ask me either. It’s good most times…just to have someone on your side even if they think you’re a little annoying.”

“You ain’t annoying,” okay things were going a little differently, now Jesus was the flustered one. Daryl was actually really looking at him, it wasn’t even in a trapped animal sort of way, he was opening up, he was trying for once. “You’re right, it’s not our place for either of us to ask questions but I see things.”

“Like what,” Jesus stared down at his hands.

“You gotta let yourself suffer and I ain’t seeing you do much of that. You lost friends, your own people. It’s okay to feel like shit. I always do.”

“I need to set an example. I have to be strong.”

“You are. We all are one way or another, we’re all still here. That says all you need to know.”

“Huh? I guess sometimes advice comes from the strangest places.”

“I’m no idiot. It doesn’t take a shrink to say you need to get yourself some sleep.”

“So you’re watching me,” Jesus gave Daryl a warm smile. Daryl scoffed and turned away.

“Not even. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Okay if you’re so smart, and if you care so much, what if I told you right here with you is the most comfortable place I can be?”

“I’d say raise your standards. The bed in the RV is more comfy than you think.”

They shared a moment of silence before Daryl heard Jesus going through his stuff again, handing him the cigarettes. “Here.”

“You don’t have to,” Daryl nodded side to side.

“I don’t smoke. I got them for you anyway,” Jesus tried to pass it off nonchalantly but Daryl was clearly touched. The air was suddenly thick, and Jesus knew no other way to ease the tension than to continue talking, “Hey we all have our poisons.”

“Hey, get me some chocolates and roses too while you’re at it,” Daryl joked, Jesus’ eyes widened, then he tried to laugh it off too, dribbling the alcohol on himself.

He paused then wiped his mouth, “Seriously cause—“

“Naw I was just—“

They both looked at each other, then away. Jesus swallowed and sat up right, “I can go.”

“What? No. Stay. You said you were gonna right?” Daryl stroke a match, promptly lighting the cigarette in his mouth before burning himself. “Shit,” he cursed by habit.

“You okay?”

Daryl let out a chuckle, then a groan, blowing out smoke into the air. “I haven’t been for a long ass while,” he said wallowing in self-pity, staring into the blanket of stars as if each one belonged to a person he loved that was dead.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Jesus smiled. “If I can make a promise and really mean it, it’s that. You said stay and that’s what I’m doing.” He reclined back, resting his head on his bag, crossing his arms above his head and stretching.

“You a man of your word, huh,” Daryl raised his brow.

“Amen.”

“Shit, man. That ain’t never gonna be funny. Eventually people will stop calling you Jesus and you’ll be left with all your bad jokes.”

“Bad jokes? You’re cruel.”

“I remember you saying that you admired my honesty.”

“I so happen to not remember that,” Jesus started closing his eyes, feeling the alcohol really settle into his bones, his limbs feeling the weight of the wears of the day. He felt heavy already, his eyelids closing, giving in to sleep.

“Shut up, you can’t even get your shit straight,” Daryl laughed out, he turned to see Jesus had fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling softly, just a little bit of his stomach exposed. Daryl held his lips together, wondering why he was so fixated with watching him at all. The man just was too pretty for his own good, a little rough around the edges but ultimately still angelic, especially now with his defenses down.

_Whatever._

He eased into the silence, somewhat missing the stupid things the little guy usually had to say. He looked at him again, eventually giving in and taking the liberty of pulling at the hem of Jesus’ shirt, covering that bit of white flesh so he wouldn’t catch cold.


	9. At Heaven's Door

They stood around a table, Daryl leaning close, his finger tracing along the map when they’d be strategizing with Rick. His chest would touch Jesus’ back, or their hands would touch absentmindedly. Really it was the little things; the closer they grew, the more they trusted each other, and the more Daryl would talk. He’d say stuff, cute things mostly, although Daryl probably wasn’t aware of how endearing he was. It was pretty clear early on why the group cared so deeply for him.

That day they were going on a very special mission. They were going to scout the area for bullet molds so Eugene and Rosita could start melting metal and making bullets. That part was tricky enough but they were going to have to look within the city. Rick wasn’t about to send all of his people to do this and certainly not Eugene, he needed to be sure the things they needed were there before sending him. Most importantly, they needed to be discreet so Negan wouldn’t figure out their plan.

It was obvious that Jesus and Daryl were just the guys to do the job.

It had been a while since Jesus had seen Washington, he always skirted the area and a couple of times he thought of going in but the entire thing seemed hopeless, especially if he ended up stuck. But there was something about going with Daryl that made him feel a whole lot more confident.

Daryl was driving a pickup truck, Jesus sitting on the bed, holding his gun in his lap watching three walkers moving slowly towards them. As the distance grew they faded from view. The back window was open, Daryl stuck his arm out and pat on the metal. “Hey we’re getting close to the city limits, get inside you prick.”

Jesus stood up and looked out into the city, it was suddenly weighing heavy on him. “Okay.”

“So do you still know your way around here?”

“Yeah, but be ready for anything. Roadblocks or overturned cars or people—“

“I know. I did this kind of shit a couple times in Atlanta.”

Jesus climbed through the passenger window and got inside the truck, and Daryl pushed on the gas as soon as he was comfortable.  When they got close enough to the warehouse, they got off the truck and ran alongside the building, scaling the area. There were a few walkers here and there but nothing they couldn’t handle. Jesus looked at the map.

“Okay we’re here,” he muttered to himself. “Just two more streets, then we take a left and it should be nearby.”

Daryl nodded, pulling his knife out of a walker’s head. They hustled, and eventually came to a standstill right as they rounded the corner. A man was running, it he looked like it he was one of the saviors. Daryl pulled on Jesus before he was seen, putting his hand over his mouth. Jesus gently took hold of Daryl’s hand and moved it just enough so he could speak, turning slightly towards him.

“He’s one of them. I guess they sent a group here,” Jesus said in a hushed whisper.

“Doesn’t seem like things are going well,” Daryl gruffly said, his hand protectively on Jesus’ arm, bracing him.

The smell got to them before they actually saw the walkers. The man fell over some metal piping, then found himself cornered. He tried to get up and started shooting the final bullets he must have had in his gun. It was a huge group of them that swarmed him almost immediately, his screams calling attention to all the hidden walkers. Daryl pointed his gun and promptly shot the guy in the head, his eyes wide in surprise before being put out of his misery.

“Crap,” Jesus scurried to the other side of the street to see walkers coming out from broken windows, out from underneath cars. “We’re surrounded.”

“C’mon, at least these ones are more spread out. We can still get to the warehouse!”

As they ran Jesus focused on the man being eaten. Some of the walkers were losing interest in the fact he had stopped struggling. One focused on Jesus, which caused him to outrun Daryl. They got to the warehouse, Jesus arriving first, wiping the dust off the window and looking in.  A walker hand reached out to him, surprising him. “Fuck,” he cursed, nearly falling back.

Daryl was standing watch, anxious about the growing number of walkers approaching them. He shot a few of them as Jesus tried to figure out a way in.

“Hurry it on up,” Daryl hissed.

Jesus pulled on the door, but nothing was letting up and he wasn’t about to break a window. “You stay put, I’m going to look around the back and see if there’s another way in.”

Without giving Daryl much of a chance to object, Jesus had already disappeared. Taking the offensive, Daryl got busy putting out some of the stragglers that were close to him, swiftly stabbing them in the head with his knife. He heard something approaching him from behind and luckily it was only Jesus. He gestured for him to follow.

The two of them stood at the alley, Jesus pointed at a ladder. “I tried to jump to pull it down, can you?”

“Yeah,” Daryl scoffed. He jumped, his fingers barely grazing the metal. He tried again and this time it was successful, it slid down just enough so they could climb.

Jesus climbed up the ladder first, turning around each time to see if Daryl was behind him, but he was too busy killing walkers. “Daryl. Christ! Daryl, climb!”

“Yeah, in a second,” Daryl said in between his teeth, and to Jesus’ surprise he was seeing him get more overwhelmed.

“Daryl,” his eyes nearly bugged out. He tried to think of what to do. He couldn’t climb down so the only option he had was to climb up and snipe out the walkers to make it easier on him to escape.

He tried to climb as quickly as he could but now wasn’t a good time to realize the ladder was loose on the hinges. “Crap, oh shit,” Jesus heard Daryl scream. He could hear his footsteps, Daryl running to the very end of the alley where he was getting cornered. Just as Jesus turned, the ladder broke, Jesus barely holding on.

With a thud, Jesus fell,  and he fell hard, nearly blacking out. He wasn’t sure how long he was out but he could hear a gun going off,  and Daryl cursing. Jesus had fallen on his back, blood trickling down the back of his head as he struggled to stay lucid, his fingers moving. He found the strength to sit up, just enough to grab his gun. He tried to focus through the tunnel vision, the shadows caving in on him. Stumbling when he got to his feet, his hands were trembling. From what he could see, they had Daryl surrounded.

At the corner of his eyes he could feel tears forming. He started shooting at each one of them, trying to find Daryl somewhere in the crowd. When he ran out of bullets, he started grabbing them,  and throwing them down, stabbing them, whatever he could do to get to Daryl.

Through the hysteria and the moans, he could make out Daryl cursing, killing some zombies of his own before falling back onto his ass. One was climbing on top of him. Jesus grabbed that final walker by the hair and smashed it against the brick wall.

Daryl was blinking quickly in shock, his clothes soaked in blood and gore. “Are you okay,” Jesus stuttered out.

The other man didn’t say anything. Jesus pulled down on his beanie to cover the wound on his head and luckily saw an open window to the bathroom. He climbed up some boxes and looked in to see if the coast was clear. It was. When he turned he realized Daryl was still in the same place, blinking away tears, in shock. Jesus got down and grabbed him by the arm.

“I—I think. I think I got bit,” Daryl said. “Did I get bit?”

At that moment Jesus felt the ground get pulled from underneath him. His lower lip trembled. “Doesn’t matter. C’mon. Follow me, okay,” he tried to say as calmly as he could.

“Yeah, okay.”

More walkers were already starting to follow after them but Jesus managed to motivate Daryl to crawl through the window. When they got inside Jesus instructed Daryl to stand at the furthest corner of the room.

“Be ready for anything okay,” his bright blues calmed Daryl, and again Daryl nodded, holding his gun up.

Jesus looked underneath each of the stalls, then kicked each of the doors to his relief finding nothing. He reached the end and placed the palm of his hand on the entrance door before carefully locking it with a click. For the meantime, they were safe. Immediately Jesus ran towards Daryl, who had already slumped down to the ground.

“I thought I had it handled,” Daryl muttered to himself, wiping tears away from his eyes.

“Hey buddy. Let’s take a look at you here.” Jesus over looked looked him over, patting his hands over his skin,  and finding no puncture wounds. Then he brushed over his shoulder. It looked pretty mangled but it was hard to tell if he was looking at bloody old fabric or his skin. He felt himself getting overwhelmed with panic. He pulled on every article of clothing; Daryl was wearing a jacket, a vest, a long sleeved buttoned up shirt and Jesus was already getting emotional against his own will. It was far too many layers. Biting at his glove, he tore it off his hand, then pulled off his other one. His bare hands traced over the Daryl’s exposed shoulder. Daryl looked down, then back up at Jesus’ eyes, clearly shaken.

His eyes were going wild as he felt for wounds, Daryl’s skin was red but there was no break in the skin. Jesus laughed and sat back, his hand still on his shoulder. “Oh god damnit, you’re okay. You’re okay. Thank god,” he couldn’t stop laughing. Daryl’s eyes widened, a relieved child-like look on his face.

“So I wasn’t?”

“No. No. The worst of it is you’re going to get a nasty bruise,” Jesus squeezed his flesh in relief that he was really there, that he was really safe. His heart was about to burst out of his chest when he ran his hands through Daryl’s hair, holding his face in his hands. Daryl was so glad, so sweet looking, his expression suddenly less tense and so god damned endearing.

Jesus was caught in his orbit, so in love with him, he just didn’t know what to do with himself outside of the obvious. One thing led to another and suddenly his lips were pressing against Daryl’s. Maybe it was the concussion that impaired his decision making. He wasn’t thinking. This wasn’t a moment for much thought anyway, he gave himself that much wiggle room. The point was he was relieved, so relieved he just wanted Daryl close.

He had his arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in as he was moving his lips along Daryl’s, planting soft kisses, a million electric bolts running up and down his spine. He couldn’t help the large grin on his lips after he stopped kissing him, his palm on his cheek, his forehead against his. He didn’t pay mind to the smell, the walker blood on him, or even the throbbing in the back of his own head from the fall. He could only focus on the warmth coming from his body, the breath coming from his lips, the pounding of his heart against his.

 

_Daryl Dixon was fine, he was really okay._

 

Daryl didn’t respond, in fact he was stunned, his face a beet red. Almost immediately Jesus felt embarrassed. It dawned on him what had just happened. Jesus moved away, covered his mouth and laughed again, this time nervously. “I ah—“

“What was that,” Daryl said softly, softer than Jesus had ever heard him speak.

“You can kick my ass later,” Jesus abruptly stood up and dusted himself off. “We need to find a way out.” He started pacing as Daryl watched him like a confused puppy. “That door is pretty much a doorway to the unknown. It could be good or it could be really really bad. Do you have it in you?”

“Yeah, it’s just—,” stammered the other man.

“What,” snapped Jesus, clearly losing his nerve.

“You look bad,” Daryl pointed. “Look in the mirror.”

Jesus rubbed his face and sighed, then turned to one of the mirrors, wiping the dust off with his sleeve. Shit. He did look bad. His eyes were blood shot. He slowly took off his beanie and winced. The blood had hardened and matted his hair. He touched the tender spot and groaned. He didn’t even once think of himself.

“Why did this have to happen,” said Jesus.

“I dunno,” Daryl crossed his arms, fiddling with a knife he had on his belt. “We could wait a while, recover a little bit then go outside. I can’t do it alone.”

“People are expecting us,” Jesus cocked an eyebrow.

“They know we can handle ourselves.”

Jesus gave him a concerned look, his back facing the sink as he leaned against it. “What made you choke up?”

The other man grunted, pulling out the knife, carving things into the paint that was chipping off the corner of the wall. “Stuff.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Daryl scoffed, still staring at the wall, trying to appear distracted, “You gotta start caring about yourself for once.”

“It’s not in my nature,” Jesus smiled, searching for Daryl’s gaze. Briefly their eyes met before breaking.

“If it gets you killed it’s not on me.”

“Alright, I take full responsibility then.”

There was a pause before Daryl spoke, lifting his head just a bit, “Try not to get yourself killed, though.”

“Okay,” Jesus messed with his coat, trying to hide the grin that wanted to spread on his lips. He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Hand me your backpack, there’s a first aid kit in there right?”

“Mmhmm,” Daryl rummaged through it, pulling out the alcohol and some bandages. “Get over here.”

Jesus obliged, sitting on the floor close to him, crossing his legs, his back facing him. “How bad?”

“Hmm, I don’t think you need stitches. I just gotta clean the wound.”

“Oh okay,” Jesus said softly, he parted his hair so Daryl could get better access to the wound. Immediately at contact with the alcohol, he bit his lip in mid curse.

“Hurts like a bitch huh,” Daryl chuckled.

“That’s one way of saying it.”

“I gotta get all that dirt and shit, there’s a lot,” Daryl mumbled in deep concentration. Jesus never liked silence, at least not in this moment, he needed to distract himself from the pain.

"So before all of this…what kind of life were you living?”

“I don’t know if you could even call it a life,” Daryl wasn’t sure if he wanted to reopen that wound but he couldn’t help talking more. There was always something about Jesus that made him feel oddly comfortable, especially given all the shit they'd been through. “Me and my brother were always on the run, doing crazy shit, drugs. I never hated myself more than I did then.”

“Oh. I was boring. I was one of those guys who came from an upper middle class family and tried to make it in the world without their help. I probably should have gone to college, made them happy, but I couldn’t stick to it. I wound up shacking up with this guy who dumped me a couple days before the world practically ended,” Jesus laughed, melancholy thick in his voice. “He was a shitty boyfriend.”

Daryl stopped what he was doing and blushed fiercely, blinking quickly, “Heh. Boyfriend.” He nervously scratched at his scruff.

“They always said I was a nice guy. And I am. I guess instead of feeling sorry for myself I put all this effort into helping people at The Hilltop. I was surprised I was actually good at something.”

“Mmm yeah you’re a real people person. Everyone likes you.”

“If this hadn’t happened I could have been homeless calling mom and dad for help,” Jesus sighed, “Look at how far we are now from who we used to be.”

There was an ache in Daryl’s chest. He didn’t like hearing Jesus sound so sad. When he finished up cleaning and bandaging the wound he finally said something, “You wanted to know why I choked, right?”

Facing Daryl, Jesus shrugged, “I don’t have to.”

“I see things sometimes. Like ghosts, like I know they ain’t there but it takes me back and I freeze up or freak out. I want to die but I don’t at the same time. You get me?”

Jesus nodded, listening intently.

“Her name was Beth, “ Daryl showed Jesus the knife he had just been holding earlier, “She was different. She changed me. And she—“ he felt the tears coming, but he fought them back, instead stopping himself dead in his tracks. “We were at this house before she got taken and I really thought—this was the person I could be—I was only this person with her. Like she could make the best out of the piece of crap I am. She had this magic to her. I lost her in Atlanta. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No it isn’t. She sounds like a real nice girl.” Jesus stared straight into Daryl’s eyes, his hand moving up and down his arm soothingly. Daryl lifted his gaze from underneath his hair.

“You know…you’re both cut from the same cloth. Heh. I don’t know what planet you people come from.”

“I’m as in the dark as you are, Daryl,” Jesus stood up and put his beanie back on, “I want to sleep in a bed tonight, I'm sure you do too. So am I clean enough to kick ass out there with you?”

Watching him tenderly as he rolled down his sleeves and put his jacket on--completing the perfect Jesus outfit--Daryl remained silent. He was mulling over something before speaking, but decided against it. “Yeah I’m ready.” They stood up and unlocked the door. Jesus stood to the side allowing Daryl to kick it open in one swift motion.


	10. Handle With Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry I took forever to update. I gave it a once-over but I might have missed on some typos. I'll look it over again tomorrow. I bumped it up the Mature for reasons. Thanks for the comments!

People were cheering, all of Alexandria was full of noise and excitement. In the midst of things, Jesus was trying to get a head count of how many people had decided to join in the celebration. Negan had been caught, the war was over. There were so many things to be thankful for.

The gates were opened and a truck drove in. As soon as the truck pulled to stop, people were already getting into the back, unloading whatever goods that were taken from The Sanctuary. Jesus couldn’t help grinning. Everyone was there, people from the Kingdom, The Hilltop and they were already friendly with the Alexandrians. It seemed everything worked out.

Jesus climbed in the back, rummaging through the boxes to see some wooden ones that said Caution: Handle with Care. Curiosity got the best of him and he motioned for one of the men to hand him a crowbar. He got the box open to see that it wasn’t exactly something they needed but he knew this was a better time than ever to announce what it was.

“We got the booze,” Jesus smiled to the uproar of the people around him.

A couple of drinks in, Jesus had met his quota of conversation. Everyone was accounted for except for one person. Jesus knew Rick would be the man to know just where Daryl was so he approached him.

“I swore I saw Daryl ride back with the rest of us.”

Rick took a drink out his cup and thought to himself, he walked towards the gate, “Hey Sasha? Did you see where Daryl went off to?”

“He’s outside the gates,” she laughed, “You know him. He hates the noise and the company. Can’t say I blame him.”

“Alright,” Rick rubbed his chin then turned towards Jesus, “You worried about something?”

“Oh no,” Jesus shrugged.

“You just wanted to talk to him,” Rick gave an all-too-knowing smile, one that instantly got Jesus flustered. Was he really that obvious? “You two have gotten close. I’m glad.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re best friends or anything.”

“Well if it says anything, he asked about you too before we left.”

At this point Jesus was beating himself up. He felt pretty silly walking around the perimeter, thinking of what kind of place Daryl would hide in while holding a Styrofoam plate with mostly cookies and whatever else they had prepared last minute. Daryl was never the guy who’d eat that often, Jesus was the one who would take the liberty of always reminding him.

Much against his very wishes he ran into a gaggle of walkers making their merry way to all the celebratory noise that was being made. Jesus groaned, pulling his knife out from his belt. He stomped towards them in a huff, trying to make sure he wouldn’t drop the food. The last thing he was going to do was to deprive Daryl of life’s few pleasures.

Five dead walkers later Jesus ran into the perfect place for Daryl to hide. It was a little house not too far from the safe zone. Carefully he looked around to see if any booby traps had been set. Sure enough there was. Fishing wire with bottles and cans attached to them. Jesus walked over them, then knocked on one of the intact windows. “Anybody here,” Jesus sang.

Among the trash he could make of inside the place, Daryl shot up. It looked like he’d been laying down on the floor. Daryl treaded softly towards Jesus, opening the window and looking around, then behind him suspiciously.

“Don’t be so loud. You’ll attract walkers.”

“Believe me, there’s already noise being made behind the gates,” Jesus said with a sigh. “I uh—brought you some stuff since you took off without really—“

Daryl was watching him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t need to explain myself.”

“You don’t have to. Just wondering where you ran off to—“ Jesus said, his voice trailing off to downplay just how worried he really was. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Just get in here,” said Daryl in a huff, already turning around.

“Through the window? Or is there a working door?”

“Whatever,” grunted the other man, already getting comfortable on the floor. 

This was a new world and all. And Jesus guessed in this new world windows could be used as doors. He placed the food on a clean enough looking table before closing the window behind him. “Do you spend nights here?”

If Jesus had taken a good enough look at the place, he would have figured out the answer without even needing to ask.

There was a sleeping bag on the floor, empty bags of candy, soda, or chips were lying around the place. In fact, one corner of the room was devoted to all the trash he’d eventually throw out but still hadn’t.

“It ain’t nice but it’s something.”

“Most people feel safe living behind a gate guarded by someone with a real nice gun.”

“I ain’t most people,” Daryl said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

“You’re right. So with things…safer now…what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Rick seems to always be the man with the plan.”

“He wants to expand, bring in new people. I don’t know, it’s his thing.”

“Doesn’t matter what he wants. What do you want?”

That was the million dollar question.

Daryl pursed his lips, then tried his best not to smile, “Well I don’t know.”

“You think you don’t but you do,” Jesus sat down and stuck a cookie in his mouth. “When all the celebrating dies down what the hell are we going to do with ourselves?”

“I want peace and quiet. Maybe a little company,” Daryl dropped arms at his sides, staring up listlessly at nothing in particular.

“Don’t you want to stop having to go outside? Find some nice place to shack up without having to worry that someone will break in and try to take it? Sharing that place with someone, falling in love with them? That’s the greatest thing out there. What are your thoughts on love?” Jesus was always great at conversation, at directing it the way he wanted it to go but it seemed like he lost his flow somewhere along the line. _This was Daryl he was talking to. C’mon_.

“I don’t have any,” Daryl retorted a little too quickly.

“Hmm,” Jesus chewed on the rest of his cookie. “It’s a little bittersweet with you know—our day and age. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting it. I want it. I want it a lot, but the risk—”He raised his eyebrows and leaned back into the chair, crossing his arms. “I was scared for a while. Scared of losing it almost as soon as I found it. So I just wait. It’s purgatory really. Living in between here and there, not quite knowing if I’ll regret it in the end.”

“Yeah,” Daryl focused on the ground now, his fingernail poking and prodding at a hole in the sleeping bag. He could feel his heartbeat rise, he felt partly responsible not that he had much say in it.

With glossy eyes Jesus was staring at Daryl, his lips suddenly dry, so he licked them nervously, now sitting forward, his fingers interlocked with one another. “But fuck waiting right?”

Daryl flinched, his face getting flushed, his eyes were hidden behind his hair like a man hiding behind a mask. “Do what you gotta do, I guess.”

“I would think about you. I would even dream about you, somedays.” Jesus was lost in thought, practically spewing out all the things going through his head with no censorship what so ever.

“Yeah, okay,” Daryl wiped his face and stood up, grabbing a trash bag. He just started tiding up suddenly, Jesus watched him confused, his expression gradually changing to one of complete reverence. He noticed there was a hole in the bag and where ever Daryl moved to, the trash would trail behind him.

“And sometimes there’d just be this feeling when I woke up, like my chest ached and this residual sickness stayed with me throughout the day. Believe me it wasn’t all bad either. If anything it motivated me, I wanted to do anything so I could eventually see you.”

“See me what—“

“See you.”

“Oh,” Daryl muttered softly, eventually getting the strength to look at Jesus straight in the eyes.

“There’s a hole…”

“What?”

“A hole in the bag,” Jesus pointed.

“Crap,” Daryl cursed and dropped it, he looked really flustered and embarrassed. He couldn’t stand normally so he was constantly fidgeting. “Well if you wanted to see me, here I am,” he said defensively, but his voice was giving way. Jesus just looked at him adoringly through half lidded eyes.

“Yeah. There you are,” Jesus paused, his heart skipping a beat before talking, “It just so silly thinking those things when you’re covered in blood that’s not your own, smelling like decay and sweat and gunpowder. But I was always a dreamer—“

“So what you’re saying is you’re in love with me or some shit—“ Daryl unceremoniously grumbled in disbelief.

“Yes. I’m in love with you.” Jesus was suddenly so small, but so brave at the same time.

“Yeah well you shouldn’t be.”

“I can’t help it,” Jesus blinked, tears forming in his eyes for whatever reason. Daryl was so confused by the gesture, he kept going over his expression over and over, trying to get a read on him. Thinking he possibly had been interpreting things the wrong way, searching for any malice or lies in his words but it really felt like the truth. The pure unadulterated truth.

“Why,” Daryl’s voice cracked, he dropped his head then wiped his eyes with his forearm.

“Why not,” grinned the other man, deciding to get up and sit down on Daryl’s sleeping bag. “Stop standing,” he pat on the space next him.

Daryl paused, realizing the distance between him and Jesus. Most times he’d have to be overwhelmed with grief to not hesitate about bridging the gap, letting Jesus hold him close, letting their friendship go down an entirely different path than he’d ever go. But for once his mind was clear. The war was over, it was all behind him, it all happened to another man and he just wasn’t him anymore. Now he was here with his friend and he was asking for the simplest thing. But why the hell did it feel so fucking significant? Moving one foot in front of the other and letting himself slide down that wall, eventually sitting on the floor and being in such close proximity to a man, a man that loved him. A man he trusted with his life.

The idea of it was daunting and frightening. But it was like there was a record skip.

He was already sitting next to him, Jesus looking at his own lap for a moment before moving his hand over Daryl’s like that one time before, when they both barely knew one another. Now they knew each other so well. The gesture was so thick with meaning and Daryl let it happen, he felt his heart fill up with something so unfamiliar, something so nice that it was almost impossible.

Jesus squeezed his hand, then moved it away. He reclined his head back, his eyes focused on a deflated balloon tied to a vase in the sink. “We both deserve so much more than what life delivered us. “

“You think?”

“Yeah,” Jesus lifted his brow. “We fight for our people, and we’re so selfless and we just forget to give ourselves this one thing—“

“When you kissed me—“ Daryl pulled his legs closer. “Should I have kissed you back?”

“Well,” Jesus faced him, his eyes glossy, “You didn’t have to. It would have been nice though.” He paused and licked his lips, readying himself for the words he was about to say. “Did you…did you want to?”

“I ah—“ Daryl grew sheepish, quickly breaking eye contact, shifting side to side. “I don’t know how.”

“Ha. What?”

“It don’t come easy to me,” flinched the other man.

“I’m not going to hurt you if that’s what worries you,” his eyes focused on Daryl’s eyes then lips, then back to his eyes.

Daryl was like a caught animal, finding himself helpless to this magnetic pull. “I’d kick your ex-boyfriend’s ass if I could,” he mumbled almost incoherently

“Oh it’s okay,” Jesus chuckled nervously, him and Daryl still stuck on whatever this was, “He’s probably long dead if that makes you feel better.”

“Heh, yeah it does,” Daryl tried to look away again but Jesus had one hand on his check, hesitating for a split second before their lips made contact. Immediately Daryl froze, the entire situation suddenly weighing in on him. This was happening, _alright_. Daryl tried to collect himself instead of doing nothing at all, he tried to find a rhythm to mirror what Jesus was doing. He felt him smile, rubbing his nose against his before pulling him closer, his hand locked in his hair, tugging so sweetly. Daryl nearly felt himself melt, his face hot and by now probably a fierce red. Until a moment ago Daryl had realized his hands were awkwardly at his side, he moved them up, clutching at Jesus’ arms as they continued kissing like two lovesick teenagers, learning the ropes with each other.

How far could Daryl take it before he’d get overwhelmed?

He felt like his senses were working overtime enough as it is. His heart was racing, Jesus making soft noises into his mouth, his kisses growing with more and more want. Daryl was trying so hard to keep up, but suddenly it was so hard to breathe, it was getting warmer. Jesus grabbed Daryl’s hand and placed it on his shoulder.

“Hey you can touch me,” he reassured Daryl, and Daryl was really so dumbfounded, he stupidly nodded, feeling like a dunce not long afterwards.

 _Of course he should touch him_ , Daryl screamed at himself. But in all honesty up until then Jesus was just this really attractive, pretty thing that was always at a distance. He never had many opportunities to be this close to really look at him.  And by god, he was one of the most engaging, intriguing, beautiful specimens he had ever seen in his life. His rough hands stroked his soft auburn hair, Jesus moving against Daryl’s touch almost instinctively, his lips parting letting out a moan, a deeper blush spreading across his cheeks. 

Jesus’ kisses started to move away from Daryl’s lips, following a path to appreciate his stubble and jawline. He found solace in the space in the furthest corner of Daryl’s jaw, right behind his ear. He chose this place to kiss, then nibble, then lick. There was a sharp intake of air from Daryl, jumping then shivering, Jesus felt accomplished to finally get a real reaction.

_Nice._

Jesus laughed to himself then breathed in, his nostrils filling with that smell that’s unmistakably Daryl. God he needed a bath but Jesus didn’t really care. It filled him with a more primal desire, he just wanted him so bad.  Men like him drove him crazy.

Hell—Jesus had spent a good time trying to talk himself out of it. But there was no getting out of this. His hand was moving down Daryl’s chest, down to his stomach. He was wearing a denim button-up shirt since fall was already setting in, he had gotten into a habit of wearing it all the time not that Jesus particularity minded.  He started undoing the bottom buttons, shifting over slightly so now he was nearly sitting on Daryl’s lap. His hands worked under the shirt, Daryl’s stomach sinking in, his hair now masking his reaction. His lips were red from biting on them in anticipation.

However lovely Daryl looked in this state, Jesus had to stop himself to check in on him. “I’m not moving too fast,” Jesus asked sounding more out of breath than he expected himself to be. He stared downwards, his own chest rising and falling, this was one hell of a rush. On Daryl’s side it didn’t seem to be a bad thing either. Daryl nodded side to side, still painfully, adorably bashful. Jesus couldn’t help himself leaning into one more kiss to reassure him before kissing down the fabric, excited about the bit of skin he’d eventually encounter. “God you are amazing,” moaned Jesus, his hands still under the shirt, now sliding up the muscles on Daryl’s back. He hesitated, then stopped as soon as he felt deep set in scars. Almost immediately he felt Daryl tense up, his fight or flight instincts about ready to kick off.

In what must have been a few seconds Jesus felt a melancholy settle right into his bones, making it too heavy to move, to do anything. He felt an intense sorrow, then frustration, then anger. He wasn’t going to ask what happened, but the idea that Daryl had been hurt made a whole lot of sense in the scheme of things. If anything this made Jesus love him even more, even harder, he deliberately acted like he hadn’t noticed a single thing. His lips finding their way to Daryl’s pelvis, planting sweet messy kisses, his hands moving elsewhere to undoing the belt that rested loosely on his hips.

He swore he could hear Daryl weeping, he didn’t want to acknowledge it, he knew Daryl well enough that it’d just embarrass him. He started to feel tears well up in his own eyes as well, but he was trying to play along with this rouse, that things were just fine, that these secrets didn’t need to come out any time soon. This moment wasn’t about any of that at all.

The palm of his hand started to massage the bulge in Daryl’s pants, eliciting a hiss that came from in between Daryl’s clenched teeth. With each movement, Daryl lifted his hips off the floor, grinding up against Jesus’ hand. Jesus bit at his lower lip, watching him, he couldn’t contain himself and he pulled at the zipper, unsheathing him like unwrapping a Christmas present.  He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t pleased by what he found, Daryl was getting hard and Jesus kept licking his lips just staring at how aroused he was. That uphill battle was what kept him going, so he spit on his hand, not sucking him off just yet. He settled for kissing the patch of spare blonde hair on his pelvis. With lust filled eyes he watched his hand move up and down Daryl’s length, each flick of the wrist Daryl never disappointed in not lifting his pelvis along with him. It was adorable and fascinating all at the same time.

But he could only last so long before going down on him. It was pretty much inevitable at that point. Daryl’s eyes nearly rolled back, his legs bucking, his knuckles clutching at the sleeping bag so hard they were turning white. Jesus was a pro, to say the least. He was in for the kill almost immediately.

“Ah f-fuck,” Daryl stuttered, finally bringing his eyes downwards to see Jesus bobbing up and down, staring at him so obscenely. He clutched at Daryl’s thighs, he could feel him tensing up already, he was getting close. Moaning into Daryl’s length, Jesus started pawing at Daryl’s stomach, then up his chest, Daryl nearly fell backwards into the touch. It was nothing short of amazing. “H-hold up.” Daryl suddenly interjected.

Jesus sat up, his eyes baring into him. “Yeah,” there was a sultry look to him, one that Daryl couldn’t get used to. Red cheeks, flushed lips, disheveled clothes. He was gorgeous.

Daryl struggled to catch his breath and tried to tuck himself in except he was so sensitive and raw to the touch he was going to have to accept it wasn’t going anywhere for a while. “I just—“ the words were hard to get out. He swallowed his spit, scratching the messy hair in the back of his head. He stayed silent, moving closer to Jesus, giving him the hint he wanted to be on top of him.

Jesus complied, nearly melting into a puddle underneath him almost as soon as he felt the warmth and the weight of his body on his. Daryl leaned over, still wary but intense. “Hmm how do you want me,” Jesus tilted his head sideways, his expression was pure adulation. He was starting to unbutton his own shirt, Daryl’s eyes nearly fogging over at the sight of pale skin, brown hair trailing down his stomach. He was getting so very naked and he wasn’t hesitating. Daryl was completely flustered, staring at Jesus in surprise.

“What should I do next? W-what do you want me to do?”

“Oh okay,” Jesus crossed his arms over his head. “So we’re playing that game?”

“I’m not playing any game.”

“I like you close. I like kissing you. I can kiss you forever.”

Daryl dropped his head, laughing to himself, “Yeah, okay.” He hovered over Jesus, the both of them kissing. Jesus’s hands moved up and down Daryl’s arms, eventually bringing his own arms to cross around the back of his neck. The deeper the kiss got, the more they started to rut against one another. Jesus let out a small shaky moan into Daryl’s mouth, Daryl tried to mirror what Jesus had done earlier, kissing everywhere but his mouth. Jesus swallowed, then licked his lips, he was trembling whenever Daryl would kiss along the length of his neck, stretching then moaning, shutting his eyes, raising his eyebrows in bliss. “Hah! Yes, yes, yes,” Jesus wrinkled his nose as soon as Daryl’s hand was in his pants, manhandling him through his underwear. Daryl pulled him out and started jerking him, his hand was shaky and unstable but somehow that was almost enough to get him really hard. Jesus sat up on his forearms, Daryl still kissing his neck while he did it.

Suddenly an idea hit Jesus, he held onto Daryl’s hips, positioning him so he was right in front of him, their erections pressed against one another. He laid back down pulling Daryl with him, his legs bracing his thighs. Almost immediately he got the picture. Daryl spit on his hand and rubbed it against both him and Jesus to give them enough traction. He kept looking at themselves touching, constantly trying to tell himself it was really happening, but in the midst of it all, it build up into a frenzy. Him rubbing up against Jesus, the both of them letting out the most ungodly of noises with each push. Eventually Daryl started losing track of coordination, both him and Jesus sweating buckets, helplessly rutting against each other like animals.

Jesus kept saying I love you over and over again, it was like he lost control and when they were nearing the end, Daryl swore he heard him muttering it again as he bit on the flesh of his neck. _So good._ Daryl’s eyes nearly rolled back, it was something else. Something bigger than whatever physical thing that was going on. Daryl really truly felt happy and less afraid in this god forsaken world he lived in. He let himself go, his head collapsing into Jesus’ shoulder.

His chest was rising and falling along with the other man, Jesus let out a long sigh, his lips forming into the most engaging smile. Daryl was trying his hardest not to smile either as he tried to get the hair out of his face, both his own and Jesus’. He was practically spitting it out, and surprisingly enough he was hearing himself laughing. It was contagious because Jesus started laughing too. The both of them just splayed on the sleeping bag, their clothes in a disarray, some parts of them naked, most parts not. It was a real mess.

“Why are you laughing,” Jesus choked out, covering his face in embarrassment.

“Why are you?”

“I don’t know. You started and then I dunno, I did too. I feel great. It’s been forever since there’s been peace and to share it with you,” Jesus blinked quickly, staring at the ceiling ready to fall in on itself. He stroked Daryl’s elbow, swallowing his own spit. “It’s amazing.”

For a few moments they laid in silence, Daryl eventually speaking.

“I’m sick of living on the outside.”

Jesus was starting to wonder if he was getting ahead of himself but he had already come to terms with the fact that he had said _fuck it_ to any reservations. “You can come home with me, Daryl.”

Daryl was silent, in deep thought. 

_Home._

He buried his face in Jesus’s armpit, wrapping his arm around his torso, holding him close. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to have that answer.


	11. Foundations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for not updating as fast as I usually do. midterms have been busting my ass but thank you so much for the comments. also I wanted to clarify that I'm more or less following the comic storyline. *spoiler alert* and for people who don't know what's going on, the war is over, Negan is in jail and Maggie is the new leader of the hilltop. hope you guys enjoy.

Daryl always turned off the lights earlier than he should. On the days Jesus would visit they always seemed to be in the dark, the moon was usually the only source of light. Most days Jesus stayed at the Hilltop, there was a lot to rebuild. He felt indebted to stay with Maggie during her last trimester. So a night here and there was the only time he’d get with Daryl.

It must have been four in the morning when he got up, Daryl’s broad shoulders facing him, his arms hugging the pillow he laid his head on. Jesus sat up, that night he hadn’t really gotten any shut eye, he probably spent half of the time thinking to himself, the other half watching Daryl toss and turn as he slept. It was nice really, Jesus could easily do this every day for the rest of his life but it was wearing him thin.

That night had been a reasonably calm night. Him and Daryl having a couple of drinks, talking about things, stupid things but it was enjoyable. Daryl had an odd sense of humor which Jesus absolutely adored. Despite things changing between them, they hadn’t really. Sometimes they’d make love, most times they wouldn’t, Jesus was fine with that. When Daryl would turn in, he’d get undressed and practically wrap himself in the sheets, tossing Jesus his own set. He was aloof and private, but that was Daryl. Jesus was talking himself through it, not taking it personally, respecting those boundaries.

If he wanted to be let in, he’d have to give Daryl the option. Jesus hovered before getting comfortable and each time Daryl would pretend like he didn’t know what he’d want, cursing an incoherent mumble somewhere along the lines of _t’fuck you want_. There’d be a smile somewhere in his voice, even if Jesus couldn’t see it, he knew it was there.

 _I think you know._ Jesus would say, moving the hair off of Daryl’s face and tucking it behind his ear. They’d kiss, it was chaste, always was. Daryl would smile into it and so would he, he’d move just enough to cup Jesus’ face, bring him closer before breaking contact.

_“Nothing short of amazing.”_

_“Shut up.”_

Now Jesus had to leave. His hand was on Daryl’s arm, applying some pressure, then stroking him so he’d wake. Daryl shifted, then moved towards him, squinting one eye open.

“Hey,” Jesus instantly smiled.

“Sup. You goin’ already,” he sweetly rubbed his eyes so he could focus on his partner’s face.

“Yeah.”

“Why’s it got to be so early, though,” Daryl protested.

“You know why,” this wasn’t the first time he heard this complaint, it was already starting to become a routine. “I’ll be thinking all day about you.” Jesus was always an optimist. “Are you going to think about me,” he buried his head in the nook of Daryl’s neck, tickling him with his beard.

Daryl scoffed, always bashful, “…yeah.”

Maybe it was a game they liked to play but it was tiring. Neither of them wanting what’d always came next.

On horseback, Jesus rode through the dawn, the sun not looking as beautiful as it normally would. He stopped, watching the light spread through the sky. It shouldn’t be so bittersweet. Everything he was feeling was so wrong but he wasn’t one to outright deny his own feelings. The fact was he wanted Daryl riding alongside with him. He was growing sick of being in between here and there. He let out a long sigh, wiping the exhaustion away from his face before beginning yet another day.

Almost as soon as Jesus arrived at the Hilltop, he came to check in on Maggie. He knocked on her door three times, her voice answered him from the inside.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Jesus.”

She turned, she was in bed, her large belly protruding beyond the elastic of her pants. “How are things,” she struggled to get up but Jesus immediately rushed to her side.

“No, it’s fine! How are you?”

“Good,” she lowered her gaze, covering her face and shaking her head side to side, “As good as I’m going to be at least.”

“I can handle things today. You can stay in again, it’ll be no problem at all.”

“Really,” she cocked an eyebrow, still out of her own volition scooting so that she was at least sitting up in her bed. “You’re stretching yourself awful thin.”

“Not really.”

“I see the bags under your eyes. I know it’s none of my business what you’re up to but whatever it is, you need rest.”

“So you know,” Jesus dropped his shoulders.

“I know you’ve been leaving some nights, yes. And I worry.” She gripped at her blanket, staring at her hands. “I probably shouldn’t. You’re one of the most capable people I know.”

“I’m seeing someone,” he couldn’t lie to her and he knew he owed her that much.

“Is it Daryl?”

“Wow,” Jesus raised his eyebrows.

“Girls know things,” she chuckled, “I’m glad but don’t you think—“

“Yeah. I’ve asked him.”

“So it’s that serious, huh?”

“I love him,” Jesus said, his eyes bright but melancholy at once. “He loves me too.”

“I never thought Daryl could say that out loud.”

“He hasn’t but he really doesn’t need to.”

Maggie nodded, understanding what he meant. “Well. As a leader I’d say you need to not be so distracted, we need you here and as a friend…” she paused and smiled, “I’d say the same thing but in a nicer way. Though I would also add that there’s more than enough room for him here.”

“He’s got a home back there,” Jesus hung his head low, walking over to the open window. “People he cares about. I understand why he can’t just uproot himself and come over here, just like I can’t do the same for him.”

“Someone’s gotta make a choice eventually. You have to make it work, right?”

“It’s still too new for us to be having these problems. I don’t know what to do if we’re doomed and we stop seeing each other. Is that even an option in these times we live in?”

“Daryl isn’t stupid and neither are you. It’ll work.” Maggie always said things in a way that were so comforting, she always sounded so certain and it filled Jesus with a sense of hope. “So Paul, take me for a walk, I need some air.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He took her by the hand, helping her up. “So how’s that list of baby names going?”

“Well,” she huffed out a breath of air as she stood on her two feet, “It’s going.” She wrinkled her nose searching for Jesus’ eyes. “What do you think of Hershel?”

“Your dad?” Jesus grinned. “He sounded like a great man from what you’ve said.”

“No I mean naming my baby Hershel.”

“Oh. That’d be perfect.”

“He would have liked you, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe you don’t know it… There’s something about you that people really connect to. You’re great at what you do and everyone loves you. I hope you know that you’re the glue that holds us together.”

There was a beat before Jesus knew how to react, he felt a warmth spread through his cheeks, “Thank you.”

\-------

That same morning Daryl couldn’t sleep much after Jesus left. He stayed in bed, restlessly tossing and turning until the sun eventually came out. Eventually people started coming out, banging hammers working on rebuilding and expanding. It was relentless.

Not that Daryl entirely minded, it was just a reminder of everything they lost. How did they even sleep at night with Negan in that cell?

Absentmindedly Daryl looked over to the side of his bed that was once occupied by Jesus. He ran his hand through the sheets hoping some warmth was left behind but it was already cold by then. Sitting up and resting against the headboard Daryl lit a cigarette, a million things still on his mind.

Who really cared anyways?

Jesus had a way of never really leaving his mind. He sucked on the cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke. They’d never talk enough. They’d never hold each other enough. Kiss enough. It would never be enough. Daryl was lovesick and agonizingly in a forever state of longing.  

There was a knock on the door, it was Michonne.

“Daryl it’s your shift.”

Well there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“Alright.”

Daryl got up and started dressing. Buttoning up his shirt, adjusting his belt. He stood up straight, then sat back down at the foot of his bed, running his hand through his hair.

Uneventfully the day passed. At the end of his shift, it was the late afternoon. He saw Rick making the rounds, talking to a couple of people here and there before approaching him, putting his hand on Daryl’s shoulder.

“You good,” he asked matter-of-factly. Daryl seemed distracted. He was staring far off, then his eyes locked with Rick’s before looking quickly away, shrugging.

“I’m fine I just—“

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m going outside the gates, get some air, you know?”

Rick gave him a puzzled look, taking a step back. “Shit well you got the air you need here,” he paused, trying to get a good read on Daryl, but nothing. “Yeah I get you. Bring me a couple of rabbits while you’re out there. Huh?”

“Uh yeah,” Daryl nervously scratched his scruff, securing his crossbow on his back.

It seemed like a useless effort to try and sneak into The Hilltop so he took a more direct approach, riding his motorcycle up front and waving at the guard.

“Hey can I get in,” Daryl shielding his eyes from the spotlight that was shining in his face.

“Hey it’s Daryl,” one guard murmured to the other.

The other guard cursed at him, “Well shit, don’t gawk, let him the fuck in. Maggie’ll get pissed if you don’t.”

When the gates opened, Daryl walked in, looking around the place, pushing his motorcycle beside him. A couple people glanced at him, probably wondering just what he was doing there. Obviously he wasn’t there to see Maggie but they didn’t know that. But still he felt strangely vulnerable walking towards Barrington House. He left his motorcycle behind, and was adjusting his clothes, god knows why. His hands were sweating. After asking where Jesus’ room was, he knocked on the door, waiting patiently.

“Come in,” Jesus answered, he sounded distracted, he opened the door before Daryl reached for the doorknob. Almost immediately Jesus’ mouth dropped. He was wearing his button up shirt, his hair in a bun and a pencil behind his ear. Daryl awkwardly stood in front of him, then let himself in, holding Jesus’ face in his hands as their lips smashed against each other. In the frenzy Jesus slammed the door behind him. Daryl pinning him up against the wall, with one kiss after another until the rush gradually subsided into soft kisses. Jesus ran his hands up and down Daryl’s forearms before holding onto his wrists, looking at him through half lidded eyes. “What are you doing here,” he said in disbelief.

“What? I killed some rabbits, thought you’d want some. I dunno.”

“You missed me, admit it,” Jesus grinned before bringing him for another kiss.

“No really, honest,” Daryl’s eyes grew large as he opened his bag showing Jesus inside.

Almost immediately Jesus regretted looking, he swallowed then smiled, “Thanks for bringing…dinner.”

“I can uh—skin them for you and you can make a stew or—“

“Maybe later. I’m just happy you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Daryl asked, his eyes growing misty. Jesus decided that was the best moment for them to turn in for the night.

\-----

 

Daryl was laying on his stomach, looking at the table where Jesus had been working on. Papers were spread out the surface and a blueprint of the Hilltop. Distracted, Jesus was still riding on a cloud, his hand moving along Daryl’s side, kissing the back of his neck.

“Shit that tickles,” Daryl shirked, a chuckle in his voice. “Stop that.”

“You stop being so hot,” Jesus murmured into his ear, his kisses moving to that spot at the corner of his chin. Daryl fiercely blushed, shutting his eyes.

“What were you doing…before I came…”

“You mean,” seemed like Jesus was thinking something else, Daryl quickly set him back on track.

“No,” Daryl licked his lips, still enjoying the sensation of Jesus’ weight on him, kissing him. “I mean all those blueprints. You expanding too?”

“Oh,” Jesus stopped, “We are expanding, some people wound up staying and they’d like homes too. So we’re making some.”

“Well…are you moving to one too?”

 _Were they having the talk?_ Jesus suddenly felt even higher than before, “Why?”

“Like you know, you need more room and stuff,” Daryl squinted, then shrugged trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I could consider it, we have come across an excess of building supplies.”

“I’m not saying you should or anything,” mumbled the other man, hugging his pillow.

“Okay.”

He felt Jesus rubbing his back with his knuckles. His scars were still an unspoken thing. Daryl was wearing a shirt, a thin white wife-beater (that’s how far they had gone at least) and things felt a little unbalanced with Jesus having no problem showing him every nook and cranny of his own body. Daryl let out a breath of air, gathering himself emotionally. _Baby steps._ “Man, I did come cause I missed you.”

“No? Really?”

Daryl could feel the vibration of Jesus’ laughter against him. He chuckled to himself too.

“Yes, really.”


	12. Rabbit Stew (Forever and Then Some...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so sleepy when posting this so I haven't really given it a good look. I'll do that tomorrow after I get some shut-eye. I'm glad you guys are still reading, your comments mean the world to me, I hope you guys know that. Enjoy. x

Daryl made a determined effort to sleep, he really did. It was always this thing about strange beds that put him off. He’d have to warm up to it instead. Deep into the night he looked up at the ceiling, his arms above his head. Jesus moved closer to him, his hair on his shoulder, his breath on his neck. The man never looked calmer. Daryl smiled through his tightly held lips, his hands holding onto one of the strands of hair that had cascaded onto him. A striking golden brown.

His heart felt an ache, a good kind of ache. He moved to his side, letting Jesus’ head fall onto the pillow softly. Jesus stirred, his eyes opening slightly. Daryl kissed his forehead, a smile spreading across Jesus’ lips.

“You’re not going right,” Jesus asked, “I won’t be angry but—“his eyes sucked in Daryl like pools of raw emotion. He wanted him to stay so dearly and by then Daryl had decided he was staying the night and into the morning at least. He halfway cared if Rick was going to miss him. There wasn’t danger outside the walls anymore, things should be fine.

“I don’t know,” it wasn’t what he wanted to say but he didn’t want to make any promises either. He just wasn’t in the business of trusting what he’d do from one second to another.

“Ten minutes then, huh?”

“Ten minutes, yeah,” Daryl mumbled. Jesus had his eyes closed, still fatigued. They kissed softly, Daryl’s hand along Jesus’ beard, until he held onto the back of his head, running his hands through his soft hair as they continued kissing. Daryl could die for these kinds of kisses. He’d been through hell and back and this was his slice of heaven, he couldn’t let it go.

“Are you scared of forever,” Jesus rubbed his nose against Daryl’s.

“Naw,” Daryl nearly went cross-eyed, still focusing on the flush of Jesus’ lips, then back to his saucer eyes.

“I’m scared too.” There was a pause before Jesus spoke again. “But forever doesn’t sound that bad. Not with you.”

Those words stuck with Daryl. He felt them settle into his bones as sleep finally began to take him. Sleep was never a sacred place most times, it was just inevitable. He dreamt of climbing trees and hiding things in dirt. Kicking a dog, then hearing it yelp in pain. It ran away and never came back. He instantly felt remorse and loneliness overwhelm him, crying in a cupboard so no one could make fun of him.

Walking through isolated streets, throwing rocks at abandoned buildings. The sound of glass shattering was the most satisfying noise he had heard in his life.

He dreamt of Merle holding a bottle of malt liquor to his lips as a kid. Motörhead playing loudly on their shitty speakers.

_Don’t be a pussy little brother, chug!_

He shoved it into his mouth, the foul smelling liquid spilling over his mouth and chest, the whole room erupting into laughter.

He thought of the guilt at the pit of his stomach when he snatched a purse from a teenage girl’s hands, the way her face went from fear, to panic, to tears. Watching her disappear the further he went.

Digging through it, pulling out the cash from the wallet, photos of her family falling out along with it.

The drugs were good, they were good until they triggered his flashbacks, back to his dad whipping his back. Begging for him to stop, hiding in closets, under beds, anywhere he could still fit.

 _No one’s gonna love you. No one. You have no place to go. You’re here, you’re stuck_.

Daryl thought of burning the cabin with Beth, feeling some relief as he threw the finger at the flames, saying goodbye to his past. As if it was that easy.

In the morning Daryl woke up, the rays of sunlight casting enough light that he could see enough around Jesus’ room. He could leave if he wanted to. He silently contemplated as he sat at the edge of the bed. He held onto the hem of his shirt, wondering if he should take it off and wait for Jesus’ reaction when he woke. Instead he decided against that. Putting on his clothes and walking out the front door, his bag in tow, adjusting his vest.

There were eyes on him. People could probably put the puzzle together, not that Daryl particularly cared. It had been a while since people welcomed him that way, with him first arriving at Alexandria not too long ago.

He was visibly exasperated the second he started skinning the rabbits. Stabbing them with his knife, using it to then gut them, the entrails spilling onto the dirt. There was always this frustration, this lack of control he had to his own impulses. He wanted to run, he wanted to run so far away from all of this.

“I was wondering where you’ve been,” Jesus came up from behind where he was perched sitting on some stairs. “I saw you left your crossbow, I knew you wouldn’t be so far behind.” He lovingly rubbed Daryl’s head, running his fingers through his wispy brown locks.  “What are you doing there?”

“Didn’t want them to go to waste. I can make a good stew.”

Jesus threw his head back and laughed, “I bet you can. I’m going to be doing things for a while, but I’ll still be around.” He moved so he was within Daryl’s line of vision, bending and tilting his head sideways. “Since you’re here you should go say hello to Maggie. She’s missed you.”

Daryl shrugged and smiled, “Ya think,” he cocked an eyebrow.

“You may not know it but you are a very miss-a-ble person. I speak from first-hand experience,” Jesus grinned ear to ear, moving away from him, crossing his arms behind his back. “I will see you for lunch,” he then pointed.

He was clearly chipper, it probably would have annoyed Daryl had it been anyone else but him.

“Yeah,” Daryl narrowed his eyes, scoffing.

“I love you.”

“Whatever,” smirked Daryl getting back to the task at hand.

\-------

No matter how many times Daryl had been to The Hilltop, there wasn’t much getting used to it. There was a rustic look to it, all these old timey paintings here and there. It still hadn’t changed. A house full of ghosts. He walked up the stairs, his legs suddenly heavy.

Seeing Maggie was a good thing, obviously. There was something wonderful inside her, growing. Daryl loved babies, he loved the idea of a seed blooming into a little human being. Brightness in their eyes, purity. Their small fingers wrapping around one of his. So perfect. He still wasn’t used to it happening in this world and being left untouched. Judith had a special place in his heart but every time he looked at her he felt an unshakable fear. Every time he thought of Maggie, he saw Lori.  

Apprehensively Daryl approached Maggie’s bedroom. Almost immediately her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him. “Get over here.”

Daryl moved closer. She extended out her hand, Daryl hesitated but held it. “Hey, how it goin’?” He didn’t know how else to ask how she was feeling with this difficult pregnancy.

“Everyone’s asking that. I’m fine, just restless. I’m bedridden. Doctor says I’m about ready to pop.”

Excitedly Daryl’s eyes wandered Maggie’s belly, “So that means soon?”

“Yes soon. You’re looking great, yourself.”

“Naw,” Daryl moved away, sitting on the chair next to her.

“So,” she paused blinking slowly, “What brings you here?”

“I ah—“ Daryl tried to find the words, instead his mouth was suddenly dry. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, squinting his eyes. “It’s nice here. Maybe—I’m thinking of---maybe moving—“

“Here?” She finished his sentence, her large green eyes looking at him sunnily.

“Would you have me or—“

“You don’t even need to ask. There’s plenty of room.”

“Okay,” Daryl was about to stand but Maggie stopped him.

“There’s talk y’know.” She was beaming and Daryl knew just what she was going on about. He blushed dark red. “I’m happy for you,” she continued.

“What if—“

“Don’t go there,” she grew intense, holding his hand tighter, “If I could back and change things, I wouldn’t. You love with all your heart and you give it everything you’ve got. It’s the most we can do.”

“It’s just been I’ve been thinking a lot and I can’t.”

Daryl dropped his head down, his shoulders slouching. Maggie gave him a concerned look. “Don’t you think after everything you deserve this? Jesus is a nice guy. I mean from the moment you met him, hasn’t he been good to you?”

“Yeah,” he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “He’s too good for a guy like me.”

“No.”

“I ruin everything. What if I fuck up somewhere along the way like I always do. I couldn’t protect Sophia or Denise, or Gl—glenn or ….B-b—“

Maggie sat back, covering her mouth, her eyes watering. She blinked away her tears before speaking. “Is that what haunts you? You’re not a superhero, Daryl. No one expects you to be.”

“What if I can’t protect him?”

“Jesus can protect himself.”

“How do you know your baby’s going to be okay? Aren’t you scared?”

“Shit. Of course I am. But every woman’s been scared since before walkers walked the earth. Didn’t stop women from having babies then and it doesn’t stop me now.”

\-------

Jesus walked in through his front door, removing his beanie. He looked distracted by whatever was on his mind. He absentmindedly tied his hair back, stopping dead in his tracks as soon as he saw Daryl setting the small table. It was near an open window, Daryl was looking surprisingly clean. He looked at him sheepishly, shifting about awkwardly, pulling the chair out for Jesus.

“I don’t know how to be polite to dudes. Do I do things like this or are you in charge of—oh I don’t know---who the fuck cares…” Daryl trailed off, Jesus’ eyes still wide at the spectacle before him.

“This is nice,” Jesus took off his gloves and coat, leaving them on the bed. He started rolling up his sleeves as he sat down. Daryl poured the stew into the bowls and sat down with a gruff sigh, suddenly nervous that he was sitting across his partner. Somehow it seemed more intimate than ever.

“Yeah? I don’t know,” Daryl stiffly rested his forearms on the table watching Jesus blow on his spoon before putting it in his mouth. He nodded, then swallowed, raising his gaze to Daryl’s, noticing almost immediately how vulnerable he looked waiting for his reaction.

“It’s good. I didn’t expect anything less,” he raised an eyebrow.

Daryl blushed and looked down at his bowl, “Fuck off.”

After eating Daryl pulled the bowl out from under Jesus’ nose. Jesus wasn’t quite finished but he didn’t object. His eyes were just searching for clues as to why Daryl was acting so odd. He put the bowls aside and stood near the bed, lingering there, his back facing Jesus.

“That was very kind of you to prepare that. I haven’t been pampered for a while,” Jesus said cheerfully but Daryl stayed silent. It put him off not being able to see the expression on his face. From what he could make of it, he saw Daryl unbuttoning his shirt , eventually removing it and putting it aside. “Oh. Two days in a row,” Jesus continued trying to joke, “It’s not my birthday you know, but I’m ready,” he started undressing too, but Daryl interrupted.

“No. It ain’t  that,” he turned slightly.

“Okay,” now Jesus was really worried. It took a moment longer than it should have for it to click. He continued watching, biting on his thumbnail, furrowing his brow. Emotions were suddenly amplified, Jesus didn’t like it. If anything it made him concerned for Daryl’s well-being. “Look you don’t need to.”

Daryl’s hands were trembling when he was on the final layer of clothing, eventually grabbing his shirt by the lower hem, pulling it over his head. Jesus choked on his words and usually he was so full of them.

“I’ve been this way in front of other people before,” Daryl looked away towards the blank wall, “But not you. I was scared is all. You know near everything else about me. You can look if you want.”

“Hey you’re okay, really,” Jesus’ lower lip trembled as got closer, his eyes focusing on the ugly scars. He felt rage and sorrow all rolled into one frustrating feeling at the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t this great big mystery anymore. This was Daryl making the choice to lay it all out. Jesus swallowed, his voice tender. “This doesn’t change things.”

“My dad…my mom…no one cared about me. My brother did but he wasn’t all that great either. I got lost in the woods and no one came for me. Not one single person.”

“Your dad,” Jesus blinked quickly, tears forming in his eyes as he placed his hands on Daryl’s sides, “You wanted to hide. It was him right?”

Daryl flinched, then nodded, staring at the floor. “My mom died in a fire. She was a drunk, probably killed herself to get away or maybe she was just as stupid as dad. I dunno. Dad said it was cause of me.”

“No. That’s not true.”

“I-I don’t know anymore, what’s true and what ain’t.”

“This still doesn’t change things,” Jesus said adamantly.

“All this horrible crap I did before all this. I’d rob people, beat people, cheat people. Drank myself to near death, did drugs. I always lived out of fear, always running into those woods. But I ain’t never been more scared than now. You just gotta see me now, really see me!” He faced the other man, Daryl’s eyes grew intense, baring straight into Jesus who remained unaffected, his gaze still warm and kindhearted. Again he turned away, covering his face in his hands.

“I do Daryl. I see you. All of it. And I love what I see and I love you,” Jesus breathed out, his hands wrapping around Daryl’s waist from behind, crossing at his belly.

Once he’d heard someone say that if those three words were said too often they’d lose meaning, they’d grow sullied. Couples would drift and forget the effect those words had on them. But that wasn’t the same for them, each time Daryl heard it he felt tingles spread across his chest, chills down his neck, an elation no other drug could ever give him. It filled him with a warm feeling he had no control over and it was just fine, he was safe in these arms. Never in the millions of times Jesus said it did he feel anything less than that singular emotion. It had a name, whatever it was.

There was a sharp intake of air coming from Daryl and then a long silence before he uttered his own epiphany, “I love you too.” It was barely a whisper but just enough to register to Jesus. Daryl moved his head back once Jesus buried his face in his neck. Daryl breathed him in, shutting his eyes tight, his hand holding Jesus’s face as they stayed still in that moment.

Jesus, now breathing heavily from their close proximity, his hands moving up and down Daryl’s chest. Daryl’s stomach rising and falling once their eyes met, their lips were lingering so close they could feel one another’s warm breath.

Jesus contemplated kissing him. That pull was almost irresistible but he didn’t go through with it. They didn’t have to, not now. Daryl was already tearing up from the intensity of everything so Jesus played caretaker almost immediately. He got the shirt off of his bed and put it back on Daryl, pulling it on over his head. He looked deep into his eyes, the both of them now standing in front of one another. He moved the hair of Daryl’s face, brushing it behind his ears.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never eaten rabbit before,” the younger man leaned in with a reassuring grin.

“You’re bullshitting,” Daryl said with a small smile.

“I had a pet rabbit once. So this was pretty fucked up. “

“No shit.”

“Well I forgot for a second if that says anything.”

“So you ain’t never ate rabbit?”

“What can I say? I was always a chipotle kind of guy. Then it was canned this, canned that, and finally the crops came in. We also have milk and cheese and everything else we could get our hands on but nothing that isn’t domesticated. None of the people around here are great hunters, but I didn’t tell you that. It’s good I got myself a tomcat right,” Jesus grinned flirtatiously before moving away. He started digging through his bag and pulled out a blue print, laying it out on the table. “So two bedrooms sound good,” he asked with a sharpie in between his teeth.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, “For what?”

Jesus popped the cap off the marker and started writing notes off to the side, “For this house.”

Daryl blinked in disbelief. He shook his head and crossed his arms, looking at the blue print himself. He could remember looking at maps on tables, Rick uttering commands, who'd go where, who'd do what. Gunfire, explosions, death. This was so different. If there was something good about humanity was that it always rose from the ashes determined to build again. He could hear people banging their hammers in the distance. It was thrilling all of a sudden. Finally Daryl answered. “Yeah. Why the fuck not?”


	13. Tread Softly

It probably shouldn’t have been such a surprise that Daryl was such a gentle soul. Jesus had seen it early on in their friendship. That razor edge that served as a defense mechanism wasn’t fooling him. His innate need to protect everyone else without any thought about his own well-being said more than enough. Still there were brief moments where Jesus stepped back and really looked at him, admire him like some complex work of art.

Daryl always seemed to linger where the animals were. Just like Jesus had said, there was one of everything and seeing them all running in open space brought about a brightness in his eyes.

“You like that,” Jesus said with a smile, leaning against the wooden fence.

“It’s okay. You don’t got dogs or cats or anything?”

“Hmm,” Jesus thought to himself, “There’s one cat that comes by sometimes. I call it Shadow –I know I lack imagination—but it’s in and out like a demon’s whisper.” He laughed. “I barely catch sight of it and on more than one occasion it’s scared the living hell out of me, knocking all this stuff over in the dead of night.”

Daryl smirked, his eyes briefly on Jesus before looking back to the stables. “I like horses too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Lucky for you I’m going to patrol outside the perimeter. You could join me?”

“You taking the horse?”

“Why not? I like it. The peace and calm. I usually take out a couple walkers here and there. They’ve been decomposing a lot more, they practically fall apart with little to no effort.” Daryl didn’t seem impressed, he had a half smirk on his lips. He could tell Jesus was showing off. Jesus immediately dropped his head, his cheeks flushed, “Of course you’d already know that.”

“I do my share of outside work back in Alexandria too,” Daryl grunted out with a sigh. “I don’t just sit on my ass all day.”

“So what is this, then? You staying here—is it a vacation,” Jesus said playfully, but deep down he knew better. He wanted an answer whether or not he was ready to ask.

“The sun won’t be out all day. Let’s go,” Daryl grabbed his crossbow, urging Jesus to high tail it with him.

\---

The entire time they rode together Daryl kept catching Jesus watching him, grinning like some kind of idiot. Daryl lowered his head, his teeth clenching. “Stop.”

“You look good,” Jesus shrugged. “It’s hard not to look.”

“I haven’t been on a horse for a while,” Daryl stopped the horse and got off of it once he was in the middle of a field. Jesus was confused until he realized he was approaching a group of walkers headed towards them. He walked oddly and adjusted himself. “My nutsack is taking a beating.”

Jesus’s eyebrows raised before he erupted into laughter. He buried his face in the horse’s silky mane in an attempt to not bring attention to himself. Finally recovering, he got off and pat the horse lovingly before joining Daryl.

Killing walkers was becoming more of a sport than anything. It was a nice way to get that adrenaline back, making sure they didn’t lose touch with their fighting abilities. Stab this, smash that. They got through them pretty quick. Jesus brushed the hair off of his face, grinning at Daryl, the smile being returned.

“So,” Jesus said trying to catch his breath, “I think this is the place.”

“Huh?”

The other man had already jogged a little to the left, to a little space near where the woods were just starting. Daryl saw two empty Tupperware containers at his feet. Jesus was shuffling through his bag, digging out a bottle of water. He poured it into one of the container then he grabbed a can out of his bag too. Using a handy can opener he had it open in no time, shaking the can just enough so the gelatin like substance would fall out with a plop. Looking proud with himself Jesus stood up with his hands on his hips. Daryl picked up the can and looked at it.

“Dog food,” he grimaced. Jesus was still smiling.

“Let’s just sit back and I’m sure she’ll show up.”

“She,” Daryl questioned, a brightness returning to his eyes. Jesus nearly got lost in them before snapping back into reality.

“Yeah. _She._ I want to catch her. By some miracle, I think she is pregnant.”

\----

It was starting to look like Jesus had come a little too prepared. He was pulling out all sorts of things they could snack on. If anything it was starting to look a lot like a date.

They were sitting in the field, just far enough to give the dog space to comfortably eat its food when it was ready to.

“What happened to patrolling,” Daryl stuffed a roll in his mouth.

“There’s other guys doing it too,” Jesus said nonchalantly, “You could call this lunch anyway.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause, Jesus looking out onto the field past the focal point, past really focusing on anything at all. This was nice. Really nice. Even better than anything else that they had done up until then. The silence was comforting, the company was everything to him. “You know…I went for the longest time entertaining the thought I’d end up being alone. I was getting close to accepting it.”

Daryl was in mid bite, he eyes now wide. “No more love confessions. Just once is enough,” he grumbled with his mouth full. 

“I’m not talking about you.”

Suddenly Daryl looked miffed. “Well why not?”

“There’s a puppy sized hole in my heart.”

Daryl paused, reading Jesus’ expression before realizing it was a joke. He playfully shoved him.

“Shut up, I thought you was gonna get all philosophical on me!”

“Hey no roughhousing,” Jesus shoved back, but almost immediately he grabbed him by the collar bringing him back in, Daryl caught up in his orbit. Their teeth nearly slammed into one another by how uncoordinated their movements were. Jesus eventually kissed him through their laughter, letting it die down into low chuckles in between kisses. “So I was thinking,” Jesus looked at him through half lidded eyes.

“What,” they still kissed in between sentences, Daryl holding Jesus’ face in his hands.

“Should I shave my beard?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Fuck no,” Daryl said with an intense look in his eye, Jesus just smiled, shivering as soon as Daryl started kissing down his neck. He could never quite stay composed when Daryl was the one doing the loving. Jesus fluttered his eyelashes, his lips parting as he let out a soft sigh.

Suddenly there was a noise coming from the woods. Almost immediately they both shot up, alert and searching the area to catch sight of the dog. The food looked like it was left untouched. Daryl got to his feet and motioned for Jesus to stay where he was.

“Keep an eye on the horses, let me try and see if I can lure her out.”

Jesus cocked an eyebrow, nodding side to side, “Really? You’re an expert? I can get her.”

“Well you’ve haven’t caught her yet.”

Daryl had a point there, Jesus dropped his shoulders and crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

With his crossbow in hand, Daryl maneuvered through the woods, searching for tracks. So far he didn’t see anything. He could make out footprints. After looking long enough he realized he wasn’t following a dog, he was following a person. An honest to god human being.

The last thing Daryl was, was an optimist. He followed the tracks, getting closer to whoever he was tracking. He heard someone running, and as he turned the corner of the tree to catch up, he saw a young girl had fallen to her knees. In a rush she tried to gather all the things that had fallen out of her bag. Her fierce eyes looked straight into his.

“What the hell,” she hissed.

“Enid,” Daryl was startled. “You’re saying what the hell? That’s what I should be saying. Why aren’t you behind the walls?”

“I’ll go back, okay,” she started trying to stand up. Daryl offered her his hand but she moved away from him.

“What were you doing,” Daryl said in a hushed voice, “Maggie must be worried sick.”

“I doubt she even knows,” Enid wiped herself off. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Fine. Just this once,” he furrowed his brow but he couldn’t stay angry especially when seeing her in this state. There were leaves in her hair, her clothes dirty, her eyes puffy like she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep.

“What were you two even doing out here? Why aren’t you protecting Alexandria,” she blinked, confused. “You didn’t bring supplies or anything. So what are you doing here?”

Daryl didn’t give her an answer.

“Go home, Enid. Go home in one fucking piece, I swear, girl.”

And with that he sent her off. He was confident enough she’d get back but something still nagged at him. He wiped the sweat off his face and turned around walking back into the direction where Jesus was waiting.

\------------

The tricky thing about beginnings is that you never really know when its begun or if it’s a false start. It hung in the back of Jesus’ mind. Another day floated by and he woke up comforted by the sight of Daryl’s crossbow in the same place it had been the day before.

Usually he wasn’t so uncertain when he was in a relationship but that was the allure of Daryl. He was every imaginably attractive thing he could think of but there was always that mystery. He hoped at some point he’d outgrow the fear. He couldn’t spend every waking moment of his life watching that door, wondering if Daryl would ever walk out it.

From outside the window he could see Daryl walking beside Enid. She never really got along with the other kids that were there. Since the start they went out of their way to exclude her. Maggie wasn’t aware of it, but Enid didn’t seem to be so bothered. She was lonely though. Jesus just hadn’t gotten around to talking to her about it. Seemed like Daryl beat him to the punch.

“How’s it back there,” she asked, looking at Daryl as kneeled so he could clean his motorcycle.

“What do you mean,” he cocked an eyebrow. “You mean how’s Carl?”

“I was getting around to that.”

“Well. He’s Carl. The kid don’t give away too much,” Daryl went back to work with a sigh.

“Don’t tell him I asked, I just—“

“You don’t need to worry.”

“I asked Maggie if I could go with you when you leave,” she choked out. “She said no. But I don’t care.”

“What makes you think I’m leaving?”

She put her hands on her hips, looking at him knowingly, “Your home is with Rick and everyone else. Do they even know where you are?”

Daryl spat defensively, “And you think it’s cool leaving Maggie behind in her state.”

Enid crossed her arms the way defiant teenagers always do, “She’s strong. It’ll just be a day and I’ll come back right after.”

“It’s a long way kid. You’re in over your head.”

“Hey I lived out there for a long time. So did you. I’m every bit as capable—“

“The answer is no.”

Her eyes glazed over, “It’s not that I don’t care about Maggie. I do. A lot. But I’m suffocating here.” Daryl gave her a sympathetic look, then moving his eyes away from her, immediately catching notice of a group of kids watching. “I know it’ll sound stupid—“

“But you just wanna talk to someone who understands? I get you,” Daryl stared far off, digging a cigarette out of his pocket. “Look I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “So you never told me why you came.”

“Well I’m sure you know. It’s what makes the world go ‘round.” Daryl lit his cigarette, holding it between his teeth. Jesus emerged from Barrington House, he looked at the both of them and waved. Daryl blew out smoke and waved back, smiling the most genuine smile she had ever seen. Enid looked at the both of them and it clicked.

She dropped her head, and laughed to herself. _Nice._

\------------

When night set in, they went straight to their routine. Jesus had his back towards him, taking off his shirt, unbuttoning each button meticulously. Daryl watched his bare skin now with familiarity, not that his fondness had faded, they were so comfortable around one another. Jesus brushed his hand over his shoulder where his bag was usually slung around. He firmly pressed at his shoulder trying to relieve the knot, then stretched his arms out with a loud yawn.

Eventually he kicked off his cargo pants and shoes, just standing around in his boxers and socks. He turned just enough to see Daryl but was surprised to see he had moved the crossbow closer to the door along with his things. With wide eyes Jesus now watched him, his greens now more blue as the melancholy spread through his expression.

“Hey uh—you need help undressing too,” Jesus said, noticing immediately just how stiff Daryl’s stance was.

“I have someplace to be,” Daryl heard himself say, like an echo in the back of a cave. Jesus’ gaze dropped.

“Sure, yeah,” he tried to mask the disappointment in his voice, “You have things to do, obviously.”

“Not now, just in the morning,” Daryl scratched his scruff nervously, diverting his eyes elsewhere.

“Okay. You still need sleep though.”

Daryl nodded and started undressing in front of Jesus. Each piece of clothing dropping to the floor with ease. Jesus admired how Daryl had conquered his fear of intimacy, it made it all the more bittersweet knowing he was leaving soon. He reached towards Daryl, running his hand down his shoulder to his arm, until he held his hand. Daryl’s arm stayed limp, until he squeezed back, their eyes resting on one another.

Jesus blinked, his eyes glossy, “Come here,” he held him close, his arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding the back of his head. He felt Daryl’s rough hands moved up and down his back, ultimately grasping at his flesh, making sure he’d stay still. “Did you take a bath,” asked Jesus softly, a smile forming at the corner of his lips, planting a chaste kiss on Daryl’s collarbone.

“I take baths all the time,” Daryl grimaced.

“You’re such a liar,” Jesus stroked Daryl’s hair, feeling the soft strands in between his fingers “Hey. Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

“Yeah…alright,” the other man said quietly. Daryl closed his eyes, one of his hands going below the elastic of Jesus’ boxers, rubbing circles on his tailbone just like he liked to be touched. Jesus let out a satisfied sigh, they both wished this could last forever

\------------

In the dead of night Daryl was gone. Jesus was annoyed he slept through it all without so much a goodbye. He almost hated himself for having such high hopes. He really hated himself for entertaining the possibility that this was it. Daryl was just testing him, he was learning all sorts of things about himself.

Maybe he wasn’t as independent as he thought.

He went about his day like he always would. He patrolled around the perimeter on his horse. Eventually he found himself back in the spot he had been with Daryl. Somberly he got off the horse, his legs heavy as he took each step. Desperate to find a bright spot in all this mess he tried to see if the dog had eaten the food. The two containers were still there, an abundance of flies on the dog food and the water. They were left untouched.

“God damnit,” Jesus cursed, bending over feeling a sickness at the pit of his stomach as he balled his fists over his eyes. He threw the container and walked away.

He was beyond frustrated. Everything they had were vague, scattered words they’d just breathe out to one another. It all seemed to be left to interpretation, but all the signals pointed to Daryl wanting to stay, that’s what broke his heart.

Like smoke everything he thought he knew dissipated before his very eyes. He had no one else to blame but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your support from your comments and kudos mean a lot, really. For the longest time I've been trying to give this fic a proper ending but I just keep writing and writing. Hah. Thanks for your patience, seriously.


	14. The Graveyard Not Far Behind

Enid clutched to Daryl as they drove down the long road, her long straight hair blowing in the wind. Sometimes it felt like there was no end in sight. She grew restless, leaning her head against his back, shutting her eyes. She felt weary. In the early morning hours she snuck out and waited for Daryl. She trembled, her arms at her sides. The voice in the back of her head was saying some awful things, maybe she snuck outside all for nothing. Her fear of abandonment filled her with a sense of foreboding.

Out of the darkness Daryl had emerged.

Silently he urged her onto the bike. There was something about him though, she thought as time wore on. He was warm, he was strong. She did feel safe. She wondered why she never had talked to him before. They shared hardly any words now but that was just fine with her. Silence was probably for the best.

He was distracted, his eyes focused on the road. Flashes of images coming to him, the next worse than the last. Eventually they got to Alexandria in one piece. Both him and Enid entering the gates like they were strangers. Rick was near the entrance, his eyes widening as he jogged next to Daryl who was walking in with his bike beside him.

“What’s going on? Are you okay,” he placed his hand on Daryl’s shoulder in an attempt to halt him.

Daryl shrugged, “I went to The Hilltop.”

“You didn’t think going with the crew when we’d make the trade would be easier,” Rick furrowed his brow. “I get it. You’re worried about the baby, I am too.”

Enid’s eyes were on Rick, “Maggie’s doing fine,” she breathed out, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Daryl helped out a bit.”

“Well that’s okay,” Rick rested his hands on his belt, before deciding to reach out and embrace Enid, “Come here. Carl’s missed you.” She was stiff for a moment before relaxing and hugging him back. 

Rick’s eyes searched for Daryl’s. He stretched an arm to him, patting his back. Daryl made a weak attempt to smile but he really wasn’t fooling Rick. Something was up and he wasn’t afraid to get down to what was really troubling him.

\---

“It’s Jesus,” Michonne said bluntly as she thumbed through her book. Rick looked at her confused.

“What do you mean,” he said with a crooked grin.

“You can’t see it can you,” she put the book down with a sigh. “Daryl didn’t go out to hunt, he didn’t go to The Hilltop just cause.”

Through the curtain Rick was looking out onto the street. Daryl was walking by their house, his backpacked filled. He kept pacing. Going down one end and back the other. He walked even further.

He lingered near Aaron and Eric’s house. The grass was long, the place was falling apart. In all the rebuilding that house was left forgotten. No one wanted to tell Aaron how to grieve. He was still a vital part of the community, still keeping watch, still taking groups out with him to take care of the walkers that would get close to the fence.

There was no doubt the light had gone from his eyes. The anger subsided, occasionally he’d take the piss on the saviors, not that Daryl could blame him. It was hard to accept Rick’s new rules.

That house used to be a home to Daryl. Warm dinners here and there, working on his bike in their garage. Eric was too good for this world. Daryl dropped his head, thinking of Aaron holding his lifeless hand. What was left of him was long gone, had been taken too soon, like all too many had already been.

Rick emerged from his house and walked out onto the porch. Michonne had been the one who urged him to in the first place. Daryl turned slightly, seeing his friend walking towards him through his periphery.

They met halfway, Daryl’s hands deep in his pockets, his head still hanging low. He squinted, bringing his eyes up to Rick.

Deep blues were staring straight into his, glossy and concerned. “Let’s have a drink, huh?” Rick didn’t mean to sound so pitiful. But their closeness wasn’t as organic as it used to be. He wanted to salvage what was left of it.

“Yeah, okay.”

A few bottles later, barely any words were said. They were both nervous and looking at every other thing in the room except each other. The alcohol in their blood didn’t make it any better. Rick’s palms were sweating and he was leaving sweatprints on the cool surface of the kitchen island.

“I still miss Carol,” he spoke, his eyes wandering to the oven.

“Yeah,” Daryl’s finger ran along the rim of the bottle opening. “Last time I saw her she was happy though.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day…to see the day any of us would be happy—“

“Yeah,” the corner of Daryl’s eye flinched.

“I hope you know that you deserve that too,” it took all the strength in the world for Rick to lock eyes with Daryl. It was in moments like these that he had to, despite it not being in either of their natures.

“I’m ah—I’m leaving soon. I’m leaving today actually.”

Hearing the words stung harder than he thought they would. Rick rubbed his chin and shook his head side to side. “Okay.”

“Do you want to know why?”

“I don’t need to.”

“I owe you that much,” Daryl took a final drink out of the bottle, then slammed it on the table. “I’m going to The Hilltop. They’re expanding there and well Jesus he needs company and I—uh. We understand each other and he’s helped me—uh a whole lot,” his face was deeply flushed, his eyes darting about trying to find the right words. “When I’m with him, Rick,” he blinked, suddenly feeling complete clarity the second he really thought of Jesus.

Those round saucer shaped eyes, those dilated pupils the second they were on him, outside light giving way to greens, blues and everything in between. He thought of the way his lashes would flutter sometimes, the indentation on his cheeks every time he’d smile.  How soft his touch was, how much softer his voice would be whenever he’d say his name endearingly. The silence when they were alone together.

Just him and Jesus. _Together._

“He gets me,” he couldn’t help the smile from forming on his lips, “And I get him.” He raised his eyebrows, eventually fighting to focus on the expression on Rick’s face.

He looked surprised and pleased, but mostly surprised. “Yeah?”

“You know, you’d always send us off on missions,” Daryl started biting down on his thumbnail, “I think that’s what started it all.”

“So he’s your best friend now,” Rick shifted awkwardly.

Daryl scoffed and then laughed, “Naw man, more than that,” he shot Rick a look that immediately made him understand.

“Oh… _oh_ ,” suddenly whatever absurd thing Michonne had said was right. He felt a little stupid for not noticing sooner.

“Heh,” Daryl started messing with the wrapper on the bottle, then he looked up at Rick again, “Were we obvious? We only started after the war ended. It was lots of emotions, and shit. He came to me and was like I love you and like…” sweetly Daryl squinted, the smile still present on his lips, “it made sense. And well we uh—“

“Okay,” now Rick was the flustered one.

“We did it. And it was…” Daryl licked his lips, finally feeling the weight lift off his shoulders because he was really coming clean for once, “It was _so_ good. I didn’t think it could feel that good.”

“Wow. Okay. Let’s stop there,” Rick laughed out. It was going down a route he wasn’t sure he was comfortable going, not that it was a bad image, he was just worried Jesus wouldn’t be cool with him hearing so much about their love-life. But it was all the more endearing.

“I did some thinking and shit, it’s crazy hearing myself say this…I’m actually ready to do whatever he wants me to do. If he wanted me to build a rocket and fly to the moon or dig a tunnel to I don’t know—fucking China. I’d do it. Zero hesitation. Anything to make that damn man smile. Cause when he smiles…I can see the fucking sun.”

“That’s the near damn closest thing I’ve heard to poetry that’s come out of your mouth,” Rick gulped. “So shit,” he narrowed his eyes, still distraught over having to say goodbye. “We’ll miss you here.”

“I’ll miss you,” Daryl could feel his eyes welling up with tears, “And Carl and Michonne and Judy and Aaron. It weren’t easy or nothing. But shit…it ain’t as far as you think.”

“Course not,” Rick dropped his head, a weary smile on his lips. “Everyone’s got to go sometime.”

“You try and visit, okay,” he bit on his nail so hard it was probably bleeding by then. “You’re like a brother to me.”

Maybe it was the drinks or maybe it was the moment they were now in, but Daryl was a blubbering mess. He tried to hold it together, he really did but it was all okay now. Rick had his arms around him for the first time and it was all he needed. He clutched at him, burying his head in his neck, Rick rubbing the back of his head before they separated. His hands still rested on his shoulders, firmly rubbing them as he smiled.

Michonne walked in on them, the corner of her lip curving upwards. “How’s it going boys?” She crossed her arms.

“Fine. It’s fine,” Rick said a little too quickly.

She could hear their entire conversation from the living room but she decided to play stupid. “So Daryl, you staying for dinner? Enid’s staying too,” she said casually.

Daryl wiped his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. That’s sounds good.”

\----------------

Flowers were beginning to bloom in that space in the field. That night it had rained and they had really been needing it, seems like the flowers didn’t mind either. Thoughtfully Jesus paced side to side, although he should have been deterred from trying to catch the dog, he had found some piece of mind from his meditations. He wasn’t about to give up, however hard it was to keep trying. That just wasn’t him.

Still he was weary, he had taken a hard blow to his heart from Daryl’s absence. He needed any kind of distraction. He set out the food like he always did. Still nothing.

He let out a sigh, looking at his watch, it had stopped. After tapping at it a few times, nothing changed.

He was a little frustrated. So he went back to sit next to his horse, going through his bag, searching for the right screwdriver to get his watch working. Eventually he found the kit at the bottom of his bag. To pass the time he decided to fix it.

Moments passed, it was calming trying to get it working again. Every other minute, he lifted his gaze to the spot. Still nothing. He sighed, tinkering with the watch with steady hands. It looked like it was getting dark already. Jesus put the watch in his trench pocket and walked over to the spot. The food was still untouched.

“C’mon,” he sighed. He paced side to side, eventually taking notice that he had practically spent all day there. With a sense of determination he dug through his bag again, this time pulling out a tent. He struggled but eventually put it together. If it was going to take all night, he was going to catch that fucking dog.

Of course it was for it’s own good. Jesus was always that sort of guy even before this whole mess happened. Taking in injured animals and finding them homes was in his nature.

Sitting in the middle of the tent with his legs crossed, Jesus continued with the watch. With a fresh mind he was finally able to fix it.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

After uttering a satisfied ah, he lifted his gaze again. He squinted. Something was different. He jogged over to the spot, immediately bursting into laughter the second he saw the empty tupperware.

He scratched at his beard, then rested his hands on his belt, “Damn. She is good. And I am stupid. Stubborn but stupid.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo. Thanks for reading this chapter. See, things aren't so bad. Life goes on and Daryl goes forward. It's kind of inspiring writing this fanfiction, it seems I'm probably working through some issues of my own along the way. I'm glad you guys are still reading. Thanks for all the support.


	15. Outlines, Shapes and Figures

It was going to be the last time he’d sleep in this bed. Daryl’s thoughts wandered backwards to the times Jesus would sneak in. He thought of all the days he’d open that door and see no one, the disappointment lingering for the remainder of the night. Now he wouldn’t have to feel that anymore. Jesus would always be on the other side of the door.

Daryl felt restless but at least he had a full stomach. He decided to wander to really give the place a proper good bye. 

He had gone a few good yards from the porch when he heard hushed voices speaking. Daryl himself had been walking in the shadows, and he could see two figures moving in the darkness. He squinted and realized he was watching both Carl and Enid. It looked like they were fighting.

“I didn’t ask you to come here, you could have gotten yourself into trouble,” Carl hissed.

Enid scoffed, “I can take care of myself. Daryl had my back anyway.”

“Things don’t work that way and you know that.”

Daryl looked away almost immediately feeling a pang of guilt. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her with him.

“I know, Carl,” her voice was breaking, “I thought you said you were going to be Earl Sutton’s apprentice…that you’d come.”

“Yeah,” Carl’s voice grew soft, “Yeah. I’m trying to work my way up to asking Dad. He’s just on edge.”

Enid was silent, she crossed her arms.

“Can you really blame him…with everything,” Carl continued.

“It sucks. I know it’s stupid but I miss my cell phone.”

They both were silent for a moment before they started laughing. “Your parents let you have one,” Carl chuckled.

Daryl felt a smile creep up on his lips, as he continued on with his walk.

After making the rounds a couple of times he was back at Aaron’s house. It looked like no one was home so he decided to get in through the garage. All he had to do was push up the garage door and he was inside. He was in complete darkness so he flipped the light on before he fell over something. Dust gathered on all the motorcycle parts. He looked through the things, focusing on anything that was salvageable or would be to good use at some point.

“Who the fuck is down there,” he hears Aaron’s voice coming from the other room. Daryl’s head perks up and without having much time to announce himself, Aaron had already kicked the door open and had a shotgun pointed straight at Daryl.

His eyes were wide, he was growing a beard, his hair was unkempt and longer. He didn’t look too great, it was always hard for Daryl to see.

“Hey man, it’s just me,” Daryl shrugged. Aaron’s eyes grew soft and he lowered his weapon.

“What are you doing here? You just stopped coming by…”

“I ah—,” Daryl stammered. Several phrases came to Daryl’s mind.

_I’m a coward._

_I was too scared to face Eric’s death._

_I didn’t want to see you suffering and not be able to do anything about it._

Instead he didn’t say anything at all, but somehow Aaron understood it all at once. He dropped his shoulders and weakly smiled.

“Hey, it’s okay. Anything you were looking for in particular?”

“Naw, I looked through enough things,” Daryl shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I forgot it was your house and not mine.”

Those words carried so much meaning that they both stayed in the silence, Aaron biting on his lower lips, tears forming in his eyes.

“You can come inside you know? We can have a couple drinks”

Daryl focused on the warm light coming from the hall behind Aaron. There was always something so warm about him, almost paternal, Daryl felt like a child when he was with him.

Nervously Daryl scratched the back of his head and crookedly smiled, “I’ve seen the bottom of too many bottles today but if you got coffee or something like that…”

“Yeah of course. Whatever you want,” smiled Aaron. Daryl moved in closer, dropping his head bashfully as Aaron put his arm around him, leading him inside.

\--------------

Crickets chirped loudly as Jesus stayed in his sleeping bag, his eyes wide open despite laying on his side. He couldn’t’ divert them elsewhere but that spot. Night had crept in and in all honestly, Jesus felt a bit exposed. Every now and then his horse would neigh or breathe out loudly through it’s nostrils. He shook every time.

He should have been used to this sort of thing but his mind was distracted, he felt a little sick. He hadn’t eaten and now it was too late so the hunger pangs turned to cramps. Curling inwards he groaned.

Since the dog was getting so brave Paul had decided to leave some more food as bait, this time closer to him. A couple hours had passed already before he heard something walking through the leaves. His horse neighed and trotted a little, obviously alarmed. Excitedly he stuck his head out of the tent but didn’t see a welcome sight. Walkers were wandering close by. He wasn’t about to risk his horse so he got out with the full intent to take care of them.

Then out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a brown and white spotted dog zig zagging through the grass.

It looked like he was going to have to be a bit more cautious about taking out the walkers. He snuck up on each one, sticking his knife into each of their heads. When he was finished he tread softly towards the dog who was now sniffing around near his tent.

Great, so the dog was out and about but Jesus was now facing a different problem. Should he just lunge and catch it or should he offer it some food. He decided to go with the later. He crouched, dug through his bag and took out some jerky.

He smelled it and ground some between his teeth. It wasn’t half bad as he thought it would be. Cautiously he moved closer, the dog eventually catching notice of him.

She watched him with wide brown eyes. Jesus warmly smiled, rubbing the jerky between his fingers before offering her his open palm. She sniffed at the air.

“Yeah, you’re hungry huh?”

She moved closer, then snatched it out of his hand, running backwards a little, and taking a moment to eat it off the grass. It was practically one swallow.

“Yes,” Jesus cheered to himself. “Want more girl?” He pulled out another jerky. She was growing a little more confident, with a bit more spring in her step when she ate it out of his hand.

It was inevitable but Jesus was far from being a superhero. Eventually he nodded off in his tent after booby trapping the surrounding area in case more walkers came by. Dawn was just beginning to break when he woke up again, the dog still nearby, eating the leftovers out of his bag. Startled he shot up, surprising the dog, she whined and ran off.

“Shit. No,” Jesus moaned, he rubbed his palms on his face, continuing to curse under his breath. He probably was more tired than he thought, he couldn’t even remember how he fell asleep. “Damnit. I’m naming you Doris because I always liked Doris Day and I know when you name things, they come back,” he mumbled still half asleep. He was crawling out of the tent, watching the dog running away from the direction she usually came from. That was strange.

Coming from the woods were at least ten or twenty walkers. Jesus scrambled to his feet and gathered all the things he could, putting them into the bag. He attempted to calm down his horse who was panicking by then. Luckily he climbed onto her back and rode away, gaining momentum against them. As the horse galloped away, he longingly stared at the last place he saw Doris. His heart sank.

After riding a few yards he was surprised to hear something running alongside him. He beamed immediately once he looked to the side. Seemed like Doris was following him after all.

Jesus arrived at The Hilltop, once again having to lure Doris into the gates with the promise of another can of food. She was still hungry, made sense since she was eating for who knows how many puppies that were in her. He fondly watched her eat, as he knelt over with his hands on his knees.

He basked in his victory for a short time. Maggie was headed straight towards him with a concerned look in her face, she was still in her sleeping clothes but it seemed like she was waiting beside the gates.

“You were outside. Did you see Enid?”

“No, why,” Jesus’ eyes grew wide.

“I didn’t see her all day but I thought maybe she was off on her own. But once it was dusk, I went by her bedroom and the bed was just the way she left it before. No one has seen her since the day before yesterday.”

“Maybe she left with Daryl?”

“Why t’hell would she,” Maggie spat out.

“She’s been having a hard time and she was close to Carl right?”

“Daryl would tell me.”

“Daryl left before he even said goodbye,” Jesus looked away, clearly still hurt. “I don’t know. She could have just followed him out or something.”

She seemed to have calmed down after that, “It makes sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. Daryl can take care of her,” he held Maggie close, she clutched at his back and rubbed her head against his.

“I couldn’t handle it if I lost her. Why would she leave?”

“She’s a kid. Doesn’t mean she loves you any less,” Jesus looked straight into her eyes, stroking the side of her face.

“When do you think Daryl will be back,” she placed her hand over his, her thumb rubbing his palm.

Jesus swallowed, his eyes growing larger, “Yeah soon. I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Maggie nodded, lowering her gaze. “You found a dog,” she questioned, pointing at Doris.

“Sure did.”

“Is this the one you were trying to catch?”

“Yep,” Jesus smiled, “Looks like you’re both in the same condition.” He placed his hand flat on Maggie’s tummy, he almost forgot how intimate it was to do that. But this was Maggie he was talking about, she was his closest friend, maybe even a sister. His heart fluttered at the thought of a human life being in her swollen stomach. Just butterflies. He smirked, Maggie was smiling right at him.

“Soon,” she cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Jesus blinked. Sure plenty of babies had been born in The Hilltop, but this one was different. Whoever this little person was didn’t know the significance of their oncoming birth. This baby was a beacon of light to everyone who’d be around it. He couldn’t be more excited about anything else in his entire life.

\--------------

 “If you’re going to be riding with me, you’re going to need this,” Daryl handed Enid a helmet. She narrowed her eyes, her mouth gaping.

“You are joking.”

“Since when you’ve seen me joke,” Daryl groaned as he got on his motorcycle.

Enid had the helmet in hand, still staring in disbelief. “This is dumb.”

“You coming or not.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, putting the helmet over her head. “I’m gonna just suffocate then.”

“That’s fine by me,” sighed the older man, feeling her get on behind him. She clutched at his vest as he started it up, the motor vibrating beneath them with a roar.

“Hold on,” Aaron came up beside them, carrying a couple bags of his own. He threw them into his car and started getting in, Daryl watching him curiously.

“Where t’hell are you headed?”

“I’m going with you,” Aaron said sternly, knowing Daryl would instantly resist.

“But—“

“I don’t know if I’m staying but I do want to see Maggie. And—“he stared straight at Daryl, “I need a change of scenery.”

Daryl held his lips together and nodded in silent understanding. Aaron got into his car, and turned it on.

Rick had been standing near the gate, his eyebrows raised. He rested his hands on his belt, “Hey you be safe alright,” he shouted over the noise coming from the vehicles.

Before getting to the gate Daryl drove up beside Rick, “Hey man when you see Negan back at his cell, tell him to go fuck himself.”

A mischievous smile spread on Rick’s mouth, “Yeah. I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him every day. Promise.”

\----------

Once the sun came out, Jesus gathered a crew to take out the walkers that were headed in their direction. Underneath the rays of light, he worked up a layer of sweat taking each of them out. Jumping, kicking, and tumbling.

He wasn’t keeping count but he had taken down quite a bit. The other people in the group were killing the walkers at a more leisurely pace. Jesus had fallen on his ass, breathing heavily, still tired from not getting sleep for a while. He wiped his face then looked up to see one of his people was offering him a hand.

“You okay,” she asked.

“Oh yeah I’m fine,” Jesus blinked, then took her hand. A couple more were coming down the muddy road, but most of the walkers slipping and falling. Jesus started laughing, and so did the rest of his crew. “Looks like we have this cut out for us.” He grabbed his knife and started taking them out one by one, everyone following after him.

It was the typical kind of thing Jesus was used to doing day after day. They’d drag the walkers out of the mud and put them on the wagon and take them to some isolated place to burn them. He liked laborious work. He liked working so hard that he’d spend more time practicing his breathing exercises rather than letting his mind wander to what had been plaguing his mind lately. Recovering from the aftermath of the war, worrying about Maggie’s pregnancy, wondering if Daryl would be back with Enid. He sighed, dragging the walker onto the wagon, then stopping for a moment, he crouched, and rested his head against his elbow.  

By then his boots were heavy from the drying mud that had caked on, he was covered in grime and gore. He ripped off his gloves and wiped the mud off his cheek and beard, then pulled on the rubber band around his wrist, putting his hair up and off his face. When he stood up he swore he heard something in the distance. The rest of his crew stopped too, one of the men shielding the sun out of his face as he tried to focus on the blurry visions coming closer.

Jesus’ heart began racing for an entirely different reason as he jumped out of the wagon.

“Hey if it’s our scouting crew they’re coming way too early,” Jesus heard someone murmur. He jogged ahead of everyone else, his hands shielding his eyes. Sure enough he saw Daryl on his motorcycle, Enid holding onto him and a junky car trailing behind. He felt a flush spread through his cheeks as he beamed.

Everyone immediately noticed, Jesus was stupidly grinning, and staring at his boots in disbelief. His crew were watching him conspicuously, until they all started smiling too.

“What’s got you grinning like that,” the girl asked, everyone else chuckling under their breaths.

Jesus shrugged, waving them off. “Oh come on. Go to the gates and tell Maggie we’ve got company. We’ve got Enid.”


	16. Picturesque

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay. I sat on this chapter for a while and reworked it a couple of times for it to feel right. I eventually left it alone, took a break and revisited it just now. Sorry if there's any typos. Just giving you a heads up, but there is a nice love scene in the second half for those of you who want to gloss over that and skip to the end. (this is also a heads up to those of you who want to skip straight to the love scene lol) Enjoy. :)

Through the open window Maggie stared straight out. She could see the vehicles approaching from afar. And someone running from Jesus’ group up to the gate. Right as she was running down the stairs, Brianna approached her.

“It’s Enid!”

“She’s okay?”

“Yeah. Daryl is back and he brought her with him and someone else. They’re heading towards the gate right now.”

Maggie saw the doors open, Daryl drove his motorcycle in, Enid hopping onto her feet, taking off her helmet, groaning at the static in her hair. In a rush Maggie made her way straight to her, her face visibly frustrated, shoving people out of her way.

“What on earth were you thinking,” she cursed.

Enid’s eyes went wide, “Maggie, I was just—“

“You were just what?”

“Can we just talk inside,” Enid dropped her head.

“Maggie,” Daryl breathed out, “It was me. All me.”

“I’m not upset,” she leaned back, resting her hand on her stomach, “I was worried.”

Jesus walked through the gates in rush just to see what was going on. He caught up to the group, with a curious look on his face. “Daryl, hey,” he peaked his head in. But it looked like things were tense, Enid hiding her face with her hand, Maggie’s expression somewhere between anger and relief and Daryl looking hopelessly guilty about the entire debacle. Aaron was standing from afar, Jesus sharing a look with him before his attention resting at the situation at hand.

Daryl and Jesus’ eyes locked before Daryl’s blues darted away.

“I get it if you don’t want me around,” said Daryl.

“No. What t’hell. You’re staying. He’s staying right, Maggie,” Enid cut in, “I’m the one who asked. It was my idea. I was stupid but hey—at least I’m owning up to it.”

“I don’t care,” Maggie rubbed her face, then reaching out to Enid, holding her close. “Of course Daryl. I already said I wasn’t angry. You can stay here a day, a week, forever. “ After letting go of Enid, her eyes focused on Aaron walking towards her.

“Maggie. You look great,” he smiled. She ran towards him and they embraced.

Daryl tucked his hands into his pockets, a smirk wanting to spread on his lips as soon as he looked at Jesus standing to the side, with his arms crossed.

\---------

“I named her Doris,” Jesus said proudly, motioning towards the dog who was at the exploration phase of her assessment of her new home. She was focused on smelling a bag full of chicken feed, haphazardly thrown there, half full.

“Now that’s a dog,” Daryl grinned. “Where do you think she’ll have the puppies?”

“I don’t know. Some of the younger kids already set up a bed for her but if she decides to use it, is really left up to her.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Why,” blinked Jesus.

“Sneaking off like that, taking Enid.”

“She’s very persuasive. It’s a strong possibility you saw a part of yourself in her.”

“Pfft,” Daryl smirked, “Ya think? I don’t know why I do half the shit I do. I just do it.”

“Hmm. A doer not a thinker,” Jesus looked at him fondly. “Is everything some big mystery for you?”

“Sorta.”

“I know I could be burning a bridge here but I just need to ask…for my own well-being. But are you staying?”

“Why t’hell would you think I’d want to be anywhere else,” Daryl’s eyes focused on Jesus’, whose eyelashes flickered before looking away.

“And all the shit you needed to get taken care of, it’s taken care of?”

Daryl blinked, licking his lips, he was hovering close, “Yeah.”

Suddenly Jesus felt small, he let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. Now that he was hearing everything he wanted to hear, he didn’t know how to react. “Good,” his lip curved upwards, his eyes wide and glossy, like blue pools expressing all the affection and longing he felt deep into his bones, coursing through the blood that was pumping strong in his heart. 

“You’ve got dirt on your face,” Daryl tried to wipe the dried mud off and Jesus dropped his head, pawing at his beard.

“Too dirty to kiss me then,” Jesus said suggestively, cocking an eyebrow as he swayed side to side.

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Daryl leaned in and kissed Jesus carefully, gently, as if he could break into a million pieces when he was in his hands.

“Thanks,” Jesus grinned with his eyes closed, his forehead pressed his partner’s. He raised his eyebrows, now this was his zen moment. “I needed that.”

When they got back from being with the animals, Jesus took notice that they were bringing out the picnic tables. People bringing out food, others had the cutlery, or lost in conversation. It looked like there was going to be a little shindig to be thrown probably because Maggie was in such a good mood.

“What’s going on,” Daryl asked, looking on at all the hubbub.

“Dinner is happening, I suppose,” Jesus said with a smile. “I could use a bath. Go mingle or something. They’re you’re people now.”

Daryl scoffed, then spit at the ground. “Mingle,” he smirked.

Okay, that didn’t sound like something Daryl was capable of doing. Jesus took a step back, laughing at himself for suggesting such a thing. “Well. Why don’t you see if Maggie needs help?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice.”

\----

Jesus flopped onto his bed after dressing. He could hear everyone talking outside, but it just seemed to combine into the sound of nothing. Shutting his eyes after staring at the ceiling, he rested his hands on his stomach, breathing softly.

He remembered being a kid, closing his eyes to the white noise in the background. The world was a much different place as it was now. But that didn’t seem to matter anymore. He tried to imagine what he would be like without Daryl, that person he was before him was gradually fading from his memory. It was odd to really think about and honestly up until then Paul was the kind of guy to seize these new changes, calling them opportunities, things to accept with open arms. He wasn’t about to hesitate, either. He just hadn’t stopped and really thought how deep he was.

Shit, he was really in love.

No maybes about it.

Daryl was behind those gates, and he was ready to start a life with him. Jesus opened his eyes, letting out a small sigh. Everything was as it should be. It was picturesque. It was pretty damn great.

When Jesus went down to the block party, he was pleased to see Daryl with Aaron, handing people paper plates. Daryl raised his gaze and motioned for Jesus to come help.

Eventually everyone sat for dinner. The food being passed around, everyone smiling and talking. Daryl was across from Jesus just chowing down. That guy either had no appetite or too much of one. He was scarfing down his food, Aaron sitting next to him having a low conversation with Maggie. Briefly Aaron and Maggie looked at Daryl fondly before continuing on. He didn’t say much beyond grunts and moans in between his chewing.

Jesus focused on small parts of Daryl, parts of a whole. His thin wispy hair that curled at the ends, his toned arms, the way his clothing fit his form. The naked form he longed to be looking at that very moment. Jesus licked his lips, his heart aching, his eyes fixating on the space between the buttons of his shirt that were stretched apart. Frayed fabric, buttons that probably needed to be threaded again, not that Jesus minded at this moment if they popped off.

He just wanted to be alone with him. The things they could do together.

“Hey,” Daryl grunted, his plate almost empty. “Ya there bud?”

Jesus’ eyes widened, meeting up with Daryl’s. “Yeah”

“Okay. You zoned out there,” he smirked, wiping his mouth with his forearm. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m eating,” Jesus looked down to his plate. He had barely touched it.

“Well if you ain’t gonna eat it,” Daryl reached out to grab it and Jesus shoved him away playfully.

“No. I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Alright, then,” there was a different kind brightness in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen before. Daryl good-naturedly shrugged and turned to Aaron who was watching them knowingly.

“Ah,” Aaron dropped his head grinning, aware that he had intruded in their moment.

“What,” Daryl snarled, flashing his canines, like a defensive child.

“Nothing. Just nothing,” Aaron raised his eyebrows, lifting his hands up in the air.

Jesus blushed, staring down at his plate, then back up at Daryl, who had just been staring at his hands until a moment ago.

\---

Finally alone in Jesus’ room, they were practically tangled in one another. Stumbling, riding on a cloud of bliss and hushed words. “Hey do ya want to,” Jesus mouthed to his partner.

Daryl bit his lip, his pupils were dilated, eyes soft. He blinked. “You’re awful good at convincing me.”

“Heh,” Jesus smiled, his hands clutching onto Daryl’s collar. His nimble fingers began to work on one button, then the next. Somewhere near the middle of undressing him, a button popped, falling to the floor and rolling underneath the bed.

“Well shit,” Daryl crookedly smirked. They laughed before continuing on, eventually finding the bed. Jesus climbed onto Daryl, moving the fabric off of his shoulders, his eyes immediately soaking in his nude skin.

“Hmm,” he nearly purred, his hands moving up and down his torso.

Daryl grinned into the next kiss, locking his fingers into Jesus’ silky auburn hair, Jesus moaning at the gentle tug.

Growing impatient, Jesus was already working on undoing Daryl’s belt, yearning for the relief of the sound of unzipping that zipper.

“Hey, me first,” Daryl said softly, his breath warm against Jesus’ cheek

”What? No. Me first” Sultry blue eyes locked into Daryl’s. “It’s always that way. I want you so bad. You had me drooling all night, I swear,” he burst into giggles near the end of the sentence.

What the hell was wrong with him? He sounded like a complete idiot, but it was fine because Daryl was laughing too.

“Nah. Not just that though. I ah—I want ta—“ Daryl’s eyes looked away, his face a deep red. “You know,” he struggled with his words.

“Oh,” Jesus’ already expressive eyes grew wider. He sat up, getting himself undressed in a rush. He felt Daryl moving behind him, he was sitting up too, looking on.

Daryl hummed softly, moving up closer against his back, his hands moving up and down Jesus’ spine as he dug through his drawers. “What are you doing there,” Daryl smiled looking around his shoulder.

“Right. You never see me when you’re on your stomach,” Jesus nervously laughed. “Condoms, lube. You know.” He felt his face hot, everything he was saying just felt like he was digging himself deeper. Daryl never had asked questions before, so why the hell did he need to explain himself now. He was a little embarrassed to say the least.

“Okay I get it,” Daryl’s hand lingered near Jesus’ hips. His fingertips grazing against his skin until he slid his palm in between his thighs, “Open sesame,” Daryl laughed stupidly.

Okay so they were a little love drunk.

Gingerly Jesus smiled, parting his legs as he watched the other man’s hand move up and down against his shaft through the fabric of his boxers. Jesus bit his lip, Daryl rested his chin on his shoulder. The smaller man turned slightly, seizing the opportunity to kiss Daryl while he did it. Daryl moaned in approval, pulling on the elastic of the boxers, his hand moving just below.

Jesus held to Daryl’s chin eventually intertwining his fingers in his hair, pulling him close as they deepened the kiss. He moved his bottom up against him, the other man’s erection pushing against tailbone, it sent shivers down his spine, Daryl moaning and Jesus reciprocating it into his open mouth.

“Daryl,” Jesus gasped, his breaths growing shallow, his pelvis shifting with each movement of Daryl’s hand. Slow and agonizing, so good. Wanting so much more.

“Mmm yeah,” Daryl licked his lips before staring straight at Jesus’ misty gaze.

“Don’t stop,” Jesus furrowed his brow, choking on a moan. Gently Daryl moved underneath Jesus’ arm, leaning over, his breath now on his stomach. Jesus shut his eyes in anticipation, his hands moving up and down Daryl’s back until the eventual happened. His mouth parted, Daryl’s warm mouth completely enveloping him all at once. The o shape on his lips eventually gave way to a smile, frustration at the very edge of his expression. Daryl’s head was moving up and down, just sucking him off, the finish line getting closer and closer. Jesus could feel his head swimming as he rode up straight that hill. They moved positions, his boxers somewhere on the floor now, Daryl scooting so he could be in between Jesus’ legs, making all sorts of ungodly noises with each loving gesture of his mouth, the effect of every touch of his hands, everything was blowing his partner’s mind. Both of Jesus’ hands were clutching at Daryl’s head, stroking, tugging at his hair. Jesus’ hips began to raise up off of the mattress, Daryl focusing on the absolute beauty before his eyes. He was coming apart, his pale skin flushed, and deep red wherever Daryl’s wandering hands had clutched at his flesh. Neck exposed, licking his lips, head falling backwards, his adam’s apple bobbing as he nervously swallowed, knowing just what was coming next.

God he was like heaven on earth. Daryl’s eyes watched him in complete adoration.

He had never loved harder before.

Daryl grabbed at his partner’s hips, scooting him closer, his legs elevated, resting on his broad shoulders. Jesus raised his head briefly, nearly fainting at the mere image before his eyes. His eyelashes fluttered, Daryl eventually letting go of the head of his penis with a wet pop, his kisses moving upwards from his pelvis to his chest, to his neck. Jesus heard him ripping the condom, then saw him putting it on, afterwards licking his fingers.

“I gotta get you ready first right,” Daryl mumbled, an innocence still in his eyes. Jesus zoned back into reality, his legs now wrapped around Daryl’s waist.

“Yeah,” Jesus blinked quickly.

“Okay just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Okay,” laughed the other man nervously, his hands moving up and down along the sides of Daryl’s torso.

“I don’t want to hurt you or nothin’” Daryl said softly.

“You won’t. I can take it.”

They both looked at each other for a moment, the both of them looking away, laughing to themselves, their cheeks flushed.

He squirted some of the lube onto his hand, weirdly amused by the feeling of the substance between his fingers. To ease the tension, Daryl buried his head in Jesus’ neck, kissing along his collar bone as he gently pushed one finger in, moving it in and out. Jesus flinched, then wrinkled his nose.

“We good,” asked Daryl.

“Yeah, I just,” Jesus raised his arms, letting them fall at the sides of his head as he laughed, “I almost forgot what it felt like.”

“Hmm okay. Ready for another?”

“I am ready, yes,” he smirked, his eyes closed letting his body get used to it. He felt himself relax, Daryl building up a steady rhythm. It was good feeling the heat of his fingers moving inside him, gradually growing more courageous with each movement, eventually his digits pushing deeper until Jesus let out a loud yelp.

“Shit are you okay,” Daryl asked his eyes wide. “I can stop.”

“No. Daryl. That was good. Crap that was good,” Jesus bit his lip, then his eyes met with Daryl’s devilishly. “Do it again.”

Daryl looked back down at his fingers, immediately curious if whether or not he could hit that spot again. Surprisingly he did a repeat performance. Jesus moaning loudly, with a huge smile on his pink lips, his head falling back into the pillow in bliss.

Again and again and again. Jesus looked like he was having the time of his life, squirming and moaning, Daryl was watching hungrily, the desire at the pit of his stomach growing until he felt himself shaking with him. He moved his fingers out, shifting so that his pelvis was just close enough to his ass. Jesus was far from being a patient man. As soon as he saw this position change, he ground against Daryl’s erection, moving so that took him all in. Daryl blinked a couple times in disbelief at how intense it felt. He furrowed his brow, letting out a hiss through his clenched teeth at the pressure, the heat, just all of it happening at once. He felt amazing.

Daryl bit his lip, trying to not lose control, he needed to remember his knees were still working, holding him up. His hands grasped at Jesus’s hips moving him closer, the both of them pushing against each other, Jesus’ erection flushed against Daryl’s abs. And the friction seemed to be enough for the time being.

They had the bed rocking, Daryl clutching at Jesus’ flesh, at his thighs, his calves. Jesus grabbed at his hands, trying to hold them, Daryl pushed his arms down softly, their fingers intertwining as they thrust into one another. Daryl was now full blown moaning, his jaw dropping, Jesus also singing the same song as him.

“Right there, oh shit,” Jesus babbled, bringing Daryl in for a kiss. So passionate and deep, they were getting close. Daryl spit into one of his hands, bridging the gap between them, taking Jesus’ erection and giving a good couple of steady jerks. Jesus lost it, his body overcome by the orgasm that he nearly convulsed. His legs were tight around Daryl’s torso, grasping at his shoulders so hard, his pupils blown up before he fell backwards into the bed in a complete and total disarray.

Daryl didn’t last long after that, his head buried in Jesus’ neck, breathing in everything that was him. It was all consuming, Daryl felt his heart nearly explode from how much he loved and adored this man. Why was it so new each time?

And now Jesus held him in his arms, Daryl holding him tight too. This moment of clarity was why Daryl kept doing this. It was just a reminder of how real, how physical this connection was. There was nowhere else he could imagine being than right here. The seconds ticking one after another. He lost touch with time, with everything that happened before, with everything that’d happen after. But Jesus’ voice was bringing him right back.

“Now this. I want this forever. You and me forever.”

“Forever is a stupid word,” Daryl squinted, moving his head so he could look straight into Jesus’ eyes.

“It is. How about this for the remainder of the time we have left. You and me. Us.”

 _Us_ , Daryl repeated to himself from the confines of his inner thoughts.

“Like…” he felt his mouth go dry, but he said what was on his mind anyway, his head resting on Jesus’ chest, his heart still palpitating. “I can find us rings.”

“What,” Jesus’ voice grew higher, clearly pleased. “Rings?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing wrong with moving fast,” it seemed Daryl was stating it more to himself than to Jesus. Nonetheless, it was still adorable. 

Jesus propped himself on his elbows. He cocked an eyebrow, a wild look in his eyes. There was no room for doubt left in his heart anymore. Daryl was all in. “No. No there isn’t.”

He immediately understood. Daryl was never a man full of words. He'd always find other ways to express his love, like a cat bringing home a sparrow and leaving it outside his door. His tomcat. This was his gift and all Jesus could say yes. And he did. A million times yes. With his words, with his eyes, with his lips. They melted into each other all over again, alone in the silence that was the two of them.

They welcomed this with closed eyes.

It wasn’t the end but the start of something new and it felt just because after all, this was the new world. From this point on Daryl only thought of sunrises instead of sunsets.


	17. Our Little Corner of the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you believe that I originally intended to write a small 1,000 words or so chapter and I ended up with this? Apologies in advance for any typos or whatnot. Thank you for enjoying and sticking around and comments and kudos are much appreciated. :)

Daryl didn’t need to keep watch but he insisted. He always welcomed the mornings that he woke up to. He’d drink his coffee, his legs reclined on the large window frame at the top floor of the Barrington House. It was his own little place, he’d find some peace there. He’d sit with his gun at his side, a cigarette in his lips. Jesus was right, it was a pretty damn nice view.

He grew to love watching the sun’s rays sweep through from in between the clouds, eventually full blown sunlight giving way. He stared out into the image before him, it was like a watercolor painting, the colors spreading. Sometimes he’d have to look away, his heart couldn’t take this sort of thing for too long. This was his slice of life. His gaze moved towards the ring on his finger, the reflection casting a spot of light on the wall.

Smiling to himself, he looked at his watch. His shift was done. With a grunt he stood up and walked out of the room.

“I was thinking bout giving up,” Daryl said softly, Jesus was eating his breakfast across from him. “You know. Cold turkey.”

Jesus watched him with a perplexed look, as his partner put out another cigarette in his glass of water.

“You sure,” he raised his brow. “Maybe you should wean yourself off?”

“Nah. I can just cut it off like that. I can handle it. You think I can’t?”

“No I don’t,” Jesus smirked, taking a bite out of his biscuit. “You’ll probably start up again.”

“Wow,” Daryl really did look hurt. Immediately Jesus went straight to damage control, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I had some buddies say the same thing and in no time they’d go straight back, blowing through carton after carton. I’m looking out for you.”

“Yeah. Heh. You probably don’t want to deal with the mood swings huh?”

“Well. I’m not going to say I enjoy them,” shrugged Jesus, the both of them looking at one another and chuckling. “Anyway what made you want to kick the habit?”

Daryl lowered his head, then covered his mouth, raising his gaze yet again. He swallowed before speaking. “I don’t want you looking for packs of cigarettes for me no more.”

Jesus blinked a couple of times before processing it. This was Daryl actually verballing expressing his tenderness for him. He was a little stunned before he felt himself completely melt into a puddle of goo. “Well that’s kind of you,” he said with half lidded eyes. Daryl was immediately embarrassed, trying to downplay its significance.

He tapped his finger on the table a couple of times before grabbing a biscuit off of Jesus’ plate and shoving it into his mouth. “These are good,” he said with his mouth full.

“Hey. It’s good that you care about me. I’m not going to put you on the spot or make fun of you. Remember, we went over this before,” Jesus said softly with bright comforting eyes.

“It’s a bad habit, yeah.”

“Feelings or cigarettes.”

“That’s a loaded question you know. We all got our vices,” Daryl narrowed his eyes, letting out a sigh. “It used to be forward was the only way to go, man. I didn’t have time to cry or any of that bullshit. But the world goes to hell, and suddenly everything changes. Like a flipped switch I was alive,” he bit on his fingernail before bringing his eyes back to Jesus. “It’s good and it’s bad, being alive. Really alive. But it was a whole lot to swallow at once, just losing one person after another. I want to throw it away, yeah? My stupid heart. But I can’t, I won’t let it. I did enough damage as it already. And I won’t let you get hurt just cause of one more stupid habit of mine.”

“Okay. Well said,” Jesus stared deep into his eyes, his heart pounding hard. Daryl’s chest was rising and falling, he always fidgeted when he was nervous. He found solace that at least they were both on the same level playing field. This was getting to be a habit but he very well couldn’t make a huge deal about it, although he really would have liked to kiss him right then and there. Instead Jesus placed the flats of his palms on the table, pushing himself up so he was standing. “But I hope you know more often than not, people like to know that you love them. They don’t need to be in the dark. Certainly not me and certainly not anyone else.”

“Alright,” Daryl nodded.

“So where will you be today?”

“At the garden.”

“Alright. I’ll be outside the walls.”

Daryl was watching him. He wasn’t sure if he was reading Jesus wrong so he let it go. With a grin Jesus bent over to a seated Daryl and kissed him firmly on the cheek. Daryl gruffly laughed, “Thought you forgot.”

“I like playing with you. Can you blame me,” smirked Jesus. Slowly Daryl moved his hand over his, squeezing it. For a moment they hovered near one another.

A couple of times Jesus blinked, his eyes focusing on the details of Daryl’s face, Daryl also doing the same to him. This reason alone was why it was suddenly so easy to wake up in the morning. They were completely lost, there was never going to be a before anymore. Just now. “Hmm,” Daryl’s hand crept up Jesus’ beard and rested on his cheek.

“Don’t do that. You know I’d never leave,” there was a dreamy look in Jesus’ eye as he cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head sideways.

“I have a photographic memory. I’m taking a picture.”

“You have to be bullshitting me. Really?”

 “No. Pfft. I wish,” Daryl laughed. “Just get yourself back in one piece so I can see you this up close again.” Jesus just stood there with a shit eating grin. “Get on, get out of here then,” Daryl kicked at his boots, sending him off.

“You’re a real piece of shit, Daryl. But you’re a big ol’ softie.”

“What did I say,” pointed Daryl, a huge unconvincing frown on his face.

“Okay okay. I’m out,” Jesus opened the door and shut it behind him. Almost immediately Daryl lowered his head in his hands laughing to himself. When his smile died down he always found himself staring at that door whenever Jesus left. _Shit._ This was real. This was the real thing.

\----------

“So you’re sure you’re the man for this,” Maggie gave Daryl a skeptical look while shielding her eyes from the sun. She was sitting on the ground planting some seeds. Daryl wiped the dirt and sweat off his face with his bandana.

“I’m good at digging holes. Better for plants than graves, I say.”

“And you don’t feel like your place is better outside the walls?”

“No. It ain’t my thing. Not anymore.”

“Not even a little?”

“No. Maybe sometimes but it’s more my dude’s—my guy—uh—Jesus—y’know Paul, yeah—well that’s more his thing. I still like my hunting but who needs that stuff when you guys got so much in here. Trust me there ain’t that out there.”

“Okay, I do appreciate your help though,” Maggie let out a sigh, sitting back, her hand on her stomach.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, as okay as I can be. It’s good you brought Aaron, he’s been a big help. If anything he’s taking a big load off Paul’s back.”

“Aaron was sad back there y’know,” Daryl, leaned against his shovel, looking far off, “It was pretty much a graveyard in Alexandria. After everything, it’s good to move on to some place nicer.”

“We’re all nice one way or another. We all got our problems one way or another. But Aaron needed me, he needed to find a sense of duty and well, you needed to be with Paul. It’s that simple,” she smiled warmly. “Home is any place where your heart is at peace.”

Daryl blinked at her. Her words struck a chord in him. It made a whole lot of sense. He stayed silent for a moment and nodded. “Anything you need,” he swallowed, “Just tell me. I can help.”

“Of course. But first—just tell me why? Before with Rick I knew why you’d do these things. But with me? I’m not a great visionary, I’m still learning. I might make mistakes, will you still follow me then?”

Without hesitation Daryl answered, “Yeah. Because you’re family. Because of Glenn, because of Hershel, because of Beth…” His mouth went dry, Maggie stared up at him, her eyes large and glossy.

“You’re family too,” she smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothin’. You see that spot, yeah? Over there,” Daryl pointed to an empty plot in the garden.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna plant something real nice there. Something for her. In memory of her. I don’t ever want to forget.”

Maggie nodded and dropped her head, she stayed still, eventually wiping her eyes. “She’d love that Daryl.”  

\----

“Okay this is nice and all but what are we doing here,” Enid grumbled, her hands in her pockets.

“Maggie’s orders,” Jesus said with a sigh.

“Really? And you’re supposed to teach me how to defend myself better?”

“Well if you’re going to keep escaping, Maggie would prefer you prepared and accompanied by an adult.”

“This is stupid. Why didn’t Daryl offer?”

“Because he didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell him,” he admitted. Enid was perplexed, trying to make sense of things. “Okay so I offered. I just want to talk.”

“About what,” she scoffed.

“What else? There’s this big blank space that’s bothering me,” Jesus’ eyes grew melancholy, Enid gave him a more sympathetic look, her features growing softer.

“I’m sorry,” she licked her lips, eventually voicing out her thoughts, “I saw you both wearing rings. Are you married now?”

“Heh,” Jesus rubbed his nose, “I really don’t know. It seems that way right? He’s always a mystery to me. Anyway I can help you in more ways than one. I can teach you things, lots of things. You’ve seen me fight right?”

“Well yeah,” she nodded, “You’re good but I can’t be—“

“No can’ts,” he raised his finger. “Let’s start off with that.”

“Okay,” she frowned.

“What happened out there,” Jesus blinked, looking Enid directly in her eyes.

Immediately she looked away, then back at him, “Nothing. We hardly talked. I just told him I needed to go to Alexandria and he eventually said okay.” She shrugged.

“He knows Maggie wanted you safe. So why that risk? It’s funny that I thought I didn’t need to know. But I guess I do,” he laughed.

“It’s stupid okay.”

“Does it have something to do with those kids? They can be awful. I know. I had a lot of experience with bullies back when I was younger.”

“I just needed to get away,” the girl said through her teeth, “Daryl understood that.”

“Oh,” and suddenly it clicked, “You needed to see Carl.”

“Yeah. No offence but it sucks here.” It was clear Jesus empathized with her so it was hard to stay upset for too long. Enid lowered her shoulders, eventually some of the truth giving way. “Carl gets me. And it was nice seeing him. Daryl probably knew what it was like to have that. It gave me some sense of closure. I mean there’s a huge chance Carl won’t come back here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He –uh. He wanted to be Earl Sutton’s apprentice. He wanted to learn to be a blacksmith. He likes that stuff and he’d also be here…with me… But Rick, he just, he doesn’t get it. I don’t hate him or anything, he’s just nervous for Carl, he’s being a dad.”

Jesus nodded, his lip curving upwards as he gestured towards her right as he got an idea, “Well. I know Earl. He’s pretty close to me. Maybe I can talk to him and Rick, yeah? Maybe we can make something happen? I’m not making any promises but I can try.”

There was a hint of doubt in Enid’s green eyes, she narrowed them, pursing her lips, “Really?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Okay,” she chuckled nervously. “Well. If you really need to know. I don’t think he left because of me. He probably had that destination in mind and I was that extra push. He needed to say goodbye. Whatever ties he had back there, he severed.”

“Oh,” Jesus paused, Enid had already started walking again, leaving him behind. He jogged to catch up. “Thank you. I probably should have known better.”

“Yeah you should,” she said point blankly. “If you guys are married or whatever, you think you’d work up the courage just to ask.”

“You’re right. I’m just scared.”

“Yeah. All you guys are. Adults, pfft, no better than kids.”

“I’m human you know,” chuckled Jesus. “If you’re expecting perfection out of us, you might as well be ready for disappointment.”

“Yeah. But hey—at least you admit to your bullshit.”

“It’s the first step to any real progress. I’m not in any position to let it fall apart.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid. He smiles when he’s with you and it’s not like he can help it either. If you weren’t directly involved you’d see it just as easy as the rest of us.”

“Really?”

“God you’re clueless. What do you expect me to learn from you?”

Jesus grinned, obviously ready to take the challenge. He started digging through his bag and pulled out a rope. “So you have two choices, you can tie me to that tree with this rope or you can try to hit me real hard with this wooden sword.” He pulled the long weapon out from his belt, completely hidden until then by his leather trench.

He had never seen Enid’s eyes grow larger. “Shit,” she muttered from her gaping mouth.

\-----------

“They’re too young to separate from their mom,” Jesus crept up behind Daryl who was kneeling beside Doris. She was nursing her puppies underneath a wagon covered with a tarp, it seemed she didn’t take a liking to the bed the kids had prepared for her.

Daryl offered out his finger to one of the puppies who was stumbling towards him, its eyes barely opening but not quite there. It start sucking on his finger, he couldn’t help himself, he was smiling now.

“I know, I just like visiting them.”

“It’s a small litter,” observed Jesus, “Three puppies?”

“Yeah three.”

“I didn’t even know she had them. Of course you’d be the one to find them first.”

“She moves them a lot,” Daryl stood up, biting on his nail, looking Jesus square in the eye. “Heh. She can’t make up her mind where to keep them.”

“How are you doing, buddy,” Jesus smiled warmly brushing the hair off of his face. Daryl’s lips pursed, growing bashful.

“Good.”

“You need a bath,” his leather glove traced along his cheek, wiping some of the dirt off. “Looks like you had a good day’s work with Maggie.”

“And you smell,” Daryl crookedly grinned, inhaling Jesus’ neck deeply as he moved in closer.

“I do?” Jesus smelled himself, then flinched. “Oh crap I do.”

“I don’t mind,” his voice grew gruffer, Jesus would always flush up whenever he sounded that way.

“Oh reminds you of when…”

“Not just that, I just like your smell. That weird or—“

“No,” Jesus gave him a reassuring look, rubbing his shoulders. “I like how you smell too. Who needs baths right?”

“Heh. I could go forever without one.”

“Yeah I know. I was joking about that part. Let’s not do that. So how about we make that bath happen and I can work those knots out of your shoulders. “

“Yeah okay, why not.”

Daryl dozed in and out of sleep, the water pouring down on him from a pitcher. His neck was barely holding his head up. Maybe he did work himself too much. He leaned forward, his wrists on the edge of the tub watching the water fall downwards into different directions along the surface of his body. 

Jesus always took good care of him, he never needed to ask and if he ever complained, he knew he’d always get a look that’d shut him right up. He felt his form press against him. In a haze Daryl found solace in his presence.  His hands carefully tending to him, moving along his tense muscles, cleaning him, comforting him. Gentle fingertips tracing over his scars not hesitating, treating them the same as every other part of him.  He tricked himself into thinking that by some miracle his back was healed.

For a brief moment he felt untouched by the world.  

He laughed to himself. Jesus stopped, looking at him confused. “Hey,” Jesus asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Daryl’s hand moved onto Jesus’ that was resting on his shoulder. He turned slightly as he took hold of it and brought it to his cheek, rubbing against it.

“Paul, you saved me. Every night you do it and you don’t ask for anything back,” Daryl muttered, his eyes barely open.

“I don’t need to. I don’t need anything but you,” Jesus blinked slowly.

That night Daryl fell asleep on Jesus’ chest, as he did on some nights. And this night wasn’t particularly hot. The window was open, a cool breeze coming in, Daryl focusing on the white curtains blowing with the wind. Each time he blinked he wondered if it would be the last before his body gave in to the weariness in his bones. It was only until he forgot the game he was playing that he fell asleep to rhythm of Paul’s steady heartbeat. Following it like it was the most pleasant hymn.

Morning was beautiful, not that it was surprising. Daryl appreciated it the same way he had the day before and the day before that. Through his binoculars he looked outside the walls. A couple stray walkers here and there, but nothing too alarming.

Suddenly something caught his eye just across the horizon. Three horses in a row were headed towards them. He rubbed his eyes, then zoomed in. All three were in armor. He focused on the leader.

His jaw dropped. He cast his gun and binoculars aside and ran out the door, down the stairs and out into the town square.

One of the men at the gates screamed at the visitors.

“Identify yourselves!”

Daryl could just barely hear their voices from the other side.

“Alright you can come in.”

He stood a few yards from the entrance of the gates, the two doors opening before him. Daryl grinned widely, moving the hair off his face. The leader’s horse approached him, she ripped the black bandana off of her face just as she recognized him.

“Well as I live and breathe. Daryl Dixon.”

“Carol what the hell,” Daryl quickly helped her off the horse although he didn’t necessarily need to. She still found the gesture endearing. Naturally she pulled him into an embrace, then started removing her armor, she was wearing a large flannel shirt underneath that was barely tucked in to her pants.

“I’m here for Maggie,” she said point blank, “Don’t tell me she’s popped already.”

 


	18. A Redneck Honeymoon (Fear, Silence and then Clarity)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Well this is the final chapter. I'm both surprised and proud that I've completed this. First things first I want to thank [ bellsfreckles ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bellsfreckles/pseuds/bellsfreckles) for all her help. She reread this stuff over and over and endured long conversations of where I should take this thing. She's the most you can ask for in a friend and I adore her.  
> Second thing, you guys are amazing and thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the kudos, the comments and everything. Believe me one part of me writes for myself but the other half does it for the people who enjoy it. I love this fandom so much. You guys really are great.  
> This fic was really personal to me. I'm an abuse survivor myself and while I firmly believe another person can cause a profound effect on you, the journey you take alone is every bit as important. Like Daryl I want to find peace in the suffering. Again thanks you guys. You're great and I have a lighter darus fic in the works that I hope you'll enjoy.

Daryl stared outside the window as Jesus drove a beat up pickup truck. They drove down the road for a while, Daryl focusing on the scenery. Stray walkers here and there, shambling with no particular direction in mind. Everything was a skeleton of the life that had long been forgotten. The world was there for what it was, decay, and the promise of new life.

Jesus gave him a concerned look, his hands sliding up and down along the steering wheel before he spoke. “You haven’t really told me what we’re looking for.”

“It’s up ahead,” Daryl muttered, biting on a fingernail. Jesus briefly looked at the pack of cigarettes between them, near the stick shift. They were untouched.

Finally they got to the store, Jesus got out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. He looked towards Daryl then back again at the place, cocking an eyebrow.

“I see,” he said with a smile.  “Anything you have in mind?”

Daryl had been fumbling in the back of the truck. He came out with a crowbar in hand. “You ready? Ain’t nothing in there we can’t handle.”

“Yeah I’m good,” Jesus started stretching, then quickly jogged in place to get the blood going.

After wedging the crowbar in between the doors, Daryl pushed and eventually pulled them apart. Jesus stood beside him with a knife in hand. A cloud of dust blew towards them and Daryl was the first to enter. He hit the chimes that hung close to the door and patiently waited.

Silence.

Nothing stirred.

Jesus walked ahead of him, getting a good look of the place.  Besides the register there were some business cards _, Babies n’ Things_ , he read fondly. He turned towards Daryl who was sifting through some blankets.

“This is a quaint little place,” Daryl stayed silent, Jesus kept talking like he always did, “Can’t pick a color?”

“They’re all thin ass fleece. I don’t want the baby getting cold or anything.”

“There has to be better stuff around here, “Jesus crouched, looking through the lower shelves with a small flashlight in his mouth. “Yeth this arth nicether,” he said in a muffled voice. He pulled out some thicker blankets.

“Aw yeah,” Daryl’s eyes lit up. He grabbed at them and stuffed in his bag. Jesus still had the flashlight in his mouth, but now he was digging through baby clothes. Daryl pulled the flashlight out with a smirk, Jesus blinked at him a couple of times, looking confused.

“Heh. What?”

“Nothin,” Daryl’s lip stayed curled upwards just hinting at the smile he had earlier.

“Okay. Honestly I don’t know the first thing about kids,” Jesus admitted with a sigh after rummaging around for a while. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“I was around Judith for a while, so I kind of know.”

“Oh. Baby expert,” teased Jesus with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah you can say that,” Daryl said seriously before laughing.

After getting everything they were looking for Daryl sat in the bed of the truck, looking on at the view.

“You’re pretty quiet today,” Jesus said with raised brows, climbing on and sitting next to him.  “You doing alright?”

“Mmhmm,” Daryl nodded and dropped his head. He looked onto his lap, Jesus’ fingers intertwining with his as their shoulders were flushed against each other. He could feel his eyes on him, it almost always made him get flustered being put on the spot like that. “…just worried and excited.”

“Guess what,” Jesus nudged him with his shoulder, “Me too.”

It was bittersweet, they were both world weary. Still it was nice to be side by side.

Their eyes met, and they shared a smile before Daryl looked away with a sigh, leaning his arm against the warm metal of the truck. He started picking at the chipping paint.

“I think of all the things that could go wrong. Know I shouldn’t,” Daryl mused.

“It’s bringing back unpleasant memories?”

“I suppose.”

“I thought so. Well look at this nice thing you did. No one asked you to do it. But you were considerate enough to think it up.” Jesus outright grinned, squeezing Daryl’s hand harder. “You got hope right there, it’s in you already. You’re just too scared to see it.”

“Yeah?”

“And look at me coming along for the ride. You knew I’d say yes anyway.”

“I promised I wouldn’t just disappear. Thought you’d want to disappear with me,” Daryl said with a gruff smile.

“It’s fine. I’m not afraid. I thought maybe I’d scare you away, it took me a while to know you weren’t going anywhere. The rings didn’t tie us down. Wearing mine reminds me you’re always there even if you’re not. I know it’s official or at least as official as we can get.”

“Official,” questioned Daryl as he furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. You and me, husbands or whatever you want to call it.”

“We’re not husbands,” laughed Daryl.

“Oh. Thought you said forever and all that,” Jesus asked, a hint of heartbreak in his eyes. “We made a pretty big deal about it.”

“There needs to be the whole _I do_ thing and whatever else.”

“God you’re messing with me aren’t you?”

“There’s got to be a priest or a judge. You know someone official.” Daryl was trying so hard not to smirk, his lips always pursed whenever he lied.

At that point Jesus knew they were joking. His shoulders relaxed, his eyes growing soft. “Hey my name’s Jesus, how much more official can that be?”

“Your name is Paul.”

“Also biblical.”

“All right,” Daryl nodded, furthering their little game even further. “So we’re getting married in the bed of a truck that smells like walker guts?”

“Yeah, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Shit then…. Well I’m ready when you’re ready,” chuckled Daryl.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s see if I can remember this,” Jesus sat up, a perplexed look on his face trying to think up the traditional vows. “Do you Daryl Dixon take me, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“You gotta say your whole name.”

“Fine. Do you Daryl Dixon take Paul Monroe as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I dunno,” Daryl smirked, “He can be annoying. He’s always sneaking on me like some damn ninja.”

“So is that an _I do_ ,” Jesus bit on his lower lip, his eyes looking deep into Daryl’s.

“Yeah. Of course I fucking do.”

“Great. Alright do I, Paul Monroe take Daryl Dixon as my lawfully wedded husband? ….I don’t know,” he narrowed his eyes, Daryl grimacing at him. “Should I?”

“I ain’t answering for you. I gave my answer.”

“I think I gotta give this a shot,” Jesus nodded, a huge smirk on his lips. “Why not. He seems like a nice enough guy. I do. Okay I guess that officiates it. Do you feel any different?”

“You messed up.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah you did, you forgot the whole sickness and in health part.”

“That’s the depressing part. I don’t need to think about that. It’s fine.”

“You forgot another important thing too.”

“What?”

“We gotta kiss then its official,” Daryl said softly, almost childlike. He leaned in and kissed Jesus gently, cupping his face in either hand. Jesus felt his heart thump hard in his chest.

 “Right,” he mouthed after Daryl broke the kiss, their lips lingering, still so close he could feel his breath on him. Jesus hesitated, trying to find his voice again, “What do you suggest we do next?”

\----

Through ragged breaths Jesus tried to focus on not bumping up against anything. His hand firmly held onto the back of Daryl’s neck as his head rose and fall. Jesus was nearly going cross-eyed, his knees trembling, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple.

Daryl looked up at him, staring at him with piercing blue eyes while he did it.  Jesus licked his lips, his head falling back as he started clutching at anything, everything. He clenched his teeth, _shit_ , whenever Daryl did that one particular thing it drove him crazy. Biting back at his moans, his hips started trying to find a rhythm with Daryl’s movements. He made one pleading noise that he muffled against his own gloved hand, trying to not attract attention from any surrounding walkers they hadn’t already taken care of.

The danger aspect probably shouldn’t have added to all the other things that made this particular orgasm so great, but it did. Shit it did. And Daryl being the trooper that he was, swallowed him whole, sucking him off a couple of times before he was sure he was finished. He was so sensitive, it made it all the more better.

Daryl sat up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, looking pleased with himself, searching for any positive feedback from his partner. Nothing was said.  Jesus’ head was still reclined against the seat cushion lost in the bliss. His eyes eventually opened, blinking a couple of times before locking with his partner’s.

Daryl seemed to focus on Jesus’ chest rising and falling. Completely unraveled, Jesus was such a precious little thing, rosy cheeks, red lips. It was a sight that only was his to see. He started kissing down his neck, his hands stroking circles on his stomach. Jesus smiled, leaning his head against Daryl’s shoulder, kissing whatever skin he had access to.

“Sounds like it’s your turn,” Jesus said, with a cheeky grin to accompany his bedroom eyes.

“Damn. This is one hell of a redneck honeymoon,” Daryl muttered as Jesus shoved him back to the passenger seat. “In the boondocks, in a shitty pickup truck with no room to move.”

“Well we can’t all afford to go to Paris,” Jesus chuckled as he unbuckled Daryl’s pants hungrily. By then he knew his belt like the back of his own hand.

Jesus always did have an instantons effect on the other man. Daryl thrust forward into his mouth awkwardly, he could never be quite prepared. He nearly slid down on his seat, hitting the play button on the cassette player when his hands tried to clutch at the dashboard. Daryl was always a klutz whenever he was on the receiving end, it only made Jesus laugh to himself. Despite this being so amusing, there was a chance they’d give their location up to the walkers. Cranked up to the highest notch, Lynyrd Skynyrd obnoxiously blared through the speakers so loud that it made them crackle and pop. Promptly Jesus smacked it with his fist, when it didn’t stop, he delivered a ruthless kick until the radio was no more.

Daryl looked on in surprise, Jesus appeared to be mildly inconvenienced, frowning sweetly but quickly returning to the task at hand. Daryl felt a sigh of contentment around his erection. It felt funny or at least that was one way to describe it, it sent shivers down his spine.

“Could have just pressed stop,” Daryl wrinkled his brow, running his hand through Jesus’ soft hair as he shut his eyes. “There’s a button—well there _was_ a button.”

“Hmm shut up,” Jesus nuzzled his nose against him, planting wet messy kisses along the underside of his erection. He rested his head on his lap, moving his hand up and down slowly, twisting his wrist with each pump. Daryl bit his lip, his beard always tickled.

“Heh. No,” he fired back with what breath he had left.

“I warned you,” the younger man said mischievously, his eyes baring into him, returning to sucking him off. Warm, wet, lovely.

There was an intake of air, and Daryl was swimming again.

Jesus moaned, concerned with his partner reaching the end of the line more than anything else.

The vibrations made Daryl tremble, he reciprocated the noise involuntarily. Then he chuckled to himself, he felt for Jesus’ hand that was resting on his thigh. He held it, their fingers interlocking like two puzzle pieces. There was no way in hell Jesus didn’t already know how striking he was. Daryl’s other hand was back to stroking his auburn hair that cascaded onto him in long waves.

Yes he loved him. He loved him _that_ much. He was melting into him.

“Easy. Easy, Paul. Not too fast,” Daryl said in a breathy whisper.

\----------

When they arrived back at the Hilltop, Daryl was greeted with a cool breeze, night spreading through the sky. He passed by the usual staples of the town that he was growing used to, focusing on the red sparks flashing with each drop of the iron hammer. Earl greeted them with a nod, then continued with his work. Enid was standing to the side with Carl, the two of them growing silent as soon as they saw Jesus and Daryl.

Jesus approached Enid, rubbing her shoulder before giving Daryl a curt goodbye, going off to do whatever things were left to do before sundown. Daryl waved, not taking notice of Carol who was steadily approaching him, her eyes smiling before her lips even curved upwards.

“You look good for a man who was outside the wall. You’re practically glowing. You okay,” she leaned in, teasing.

Daryl fiercely blushed, “I’m fine.” He grunted. “I brought some things for Maggie.”

“Figured as much,” she narrowed her eyes at the truck, “You took that beat up thing outside? What were you thinking?”

“Didn’t do much thinking, honestly.”

She laughed and squeezed his arm. “Let’s go inside.”

“How’s she doing?”

“The doctor said bedrest. I’m watching over the woman like a hawk, had to cattle prod her a couple of times before she realized she wasn’t going anywhere.”

“She can be restless,” Daryl sighed. “There’s a lot to do here.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“And how are you,” Daryl said with the hint of a smile.

“Haven’t heard that for a while. I’m good. I keep busy, it’s the only way to get by.”

“I saw you had two guards.”

“Ezekiel insisted. I think we all know I’m the last person who needs protecting.”

“Heh right?”

They climbed the stairs eventually lingering near Maggie’s closed bedroom door. Carol paced, then moved her eyes upwards to meet with Daryl’s. “I thought I ought to be here. Extra help is never a bad thing,” she blinked wearily. “It’s just…with Lori.”

“I know,” Daryl nodded, then dropped his head. “The most we can do is wait and see.”

“I wish I could have been there. I wish a lot of things didn’t go the way they did,” she took a moment to breathe before continuing, “But its hopeless isn’t it? Holding onto the past like that. I realize the more time goes by, the more I feel alive. The stupidest things just carry so much significance. Everything is so vibrant, I can see colors clearer.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Carol paused, her lips pursing as she stood there deep in thought, her eyes glistening with pure emotion. “Yeah,” she furrowed her brow, trying not to cry. “There are moments so beautiful I don’t want to give them up. Not for anything. I want to say that I was right there and I still remember.”

Those words seemed to resonate with Daryl as he waited for Jesus to come back to his room. Jesus walked in and splashed his face with water. He dropped layer by layer of clothing, practically peeling it off before eventually sitting at the edge of the bed. His head hanging low. Daryl watched him, leaning in, trying to find some words of comfort so he could find his way closer to him.

Jesus turned his head slightly, looking at Daryl through his periphery.

“The houses are ready for people to move into. Ours was the last but it’s close to done.”

“Okay,” Daryl nodded, trying his hardest not to show the rush of excitement that flowed through his veins. Jesus smiled, moving his gaze to his. Hope was the source of light in his eyes.

\---------

The next day was like all the others. This routine was almost heaven sent. It made Daryl think of the prison, of the better days he had in Alexandria. Outside Jesus was helping load some trucks that were headed towards ASZ. He had a clipboard in hand, pointing here and there like it was some photo-op. Daryl couldn’t help smiling.

Earlier through a cracked open door he had found Carol sleeping, she was curled up in a thin blanket. Her expression relaxed, she actually looked peaceful. Instead of waking her he decided to take on her usual morning tasks.

With Maggie’s breakfast in hand, he walked up the stairs. He knocked and then walked in. Almost as soon as he had the door open he dropped the food to the floor with a deafening crash. Maggie had her hand on her stomach, her face had grown pale and she was breathing quickly.

Straightaway Daryl rushed to her, putting his hand over her forehead. She was clammy, her eyes panicked. “Oh shit,” she groaned in between breaths. “Finally.”

Daryl looked at the bed, between her legs there was a large damp spot. He threw the sheets off of her legs and was startled to see a faint tint of blood mixed in the fabric.

“Maggie are you okay?”

“It—It’s happening…”

“I’ll get the doctor. Stay there!”

“Where the hell else am I going,” she frowned at him. Daryl ran to the hall screaming.

“Get that damn doctor over here,” he shouted and waved through the open door.

“What’s happening? I think he’s sleeping,” Enid tried to look in. “Is she okay?”

“Wake him up. The baby’s coming,” Daryl felt his heart beating fast in his chest. He was surprised to even hear himself say it out loud, he was being hit left and right with so many conflicting emotions, it was a bittersweet cocktail. But there he was smiling, his hands over his mouth.

He focused on Maggie’s hand clutching to the sheets as she loudly groaned. The same hand that had tended to the gardens. He thought of Glenn suddenly. Glenn should have been there.

_I hope you know more often than not, people like to know that you love them. They don’t need to be in the dark. Certainly not me and certainly not anyone else_

Daryl reached out for her. He helped prop her up and let her squeeze his hand. In the rush of it all, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Dr. Carson ran in with all his medical equipment, a nurse behind him wheeling in even more supplies. Carol came in with Enid, both of their eyes wide.

With Carol in the room, Daryl’s grip loosened on Maggie’s hand.

“No. Don’t—don’t let go,” Maggie cursed. Daryl looked at her like a lost child, then back at Carol who nodded, a small smile on her lips.

“Okay Maggie you’re doing great,” Dr. Carson gave her a reassuring smile. “Now this is the harder part.”

“Honey you just gotta push,” Carol was at Maggie’s side, her hand on her shoulder. “Just push.”

The room was getting fuller and fuller. Carl was there, and Brianna, so was Aaron, Aaron was practically bawling. Daryl had never seen him look happier in his life. Jesus was the last in the room, he uttered to someone in the hall. “No one else comes in.”

“Great how many people get to see my vagina,” Maggie hissed in between pushes.

Immediately Jesus started corralling everyone, “You heard her. Only Daryl,” he looked at him with round adoring eyes, “and Aaron, and Carol. We can wait outside.”

“Jesus,” Maggie shut her eyes, tears streaming down her face, “Paul! Stay. You’re my best friend. Just stay.”

Those were the last words Jesus needed to hear. He bit down on his lower lip, his eyes welling up as he approached her side. “Yeah. Okay,” he stammered.

“Maggie I’m going to need you to control your breaths. In and out, slowly,” Carol instructed. “I know it’ll be difficult but do it.”

Maggie nodded, grinding her teeth, clutching at Daryl’s hand even harder.

Despite the windows being open, the room was so hot, Daryl didn’t know why or if maybe it was just him. He was breathing with her, blinking quickly, sweat getting in his eyes. With each blink he thought of moment, an event that led to this.

He thought of his father, pointing the gun at him. His body frozen, only to be startled by his father shooting the television at the very last minute.

He blinked, the gunshot ringing through his ears.

Carol’s voice coaching Maggie through the birth echoed through his mind.

**_PUSH. PUSH. I KNOW IT’S HARD. WE’RE HERE WITH YOU._ **

He saw Merle smashing pills with the bottom of a beer bottle. _Little brother. It’ll make it all better, I promise. Don’t let the guys think you’re a pussy._

**_JUST PUSH!_ **

Falling backwards into the grass, crying loudly, watching Merle’s body on the ground. Lifeless. Hopeless. So lost. Like every other Dixon before them meeting their end in some destructive way.

It did not relent.

The pool of blood underneath the door, Andrea being held by Michonne. The gun was in her hand, Michonne holding her so close. Rocking back and forth, humming softly.

**_YOU CAN DO IT! PUSH! YES!_ **

The Governor laying down the blade. Flashes of Hershel smiling, the warmth, the respect. Long gone. Maggie and Beth screaming.

He blinked.

Running with Beth and falling, the smell of grass and the earth filling their nostrils, their hearts pumping.

**_PUSH!_ **

Beth’s cold lifeless body, her hands dangling at her sides. The blood. The blood.

**_WE’RE ALMOST THERE. MAGGIE!_ **

Denise face first into the railroad tracks. Daryl stared at the horizon. There seemed to be no end to the tracks, they went on forever and ever.

**_PUSHHHH!_ **

_And what came after?_ Glenn, what was left of Glenn. Everyone else lost in the gun shots, the explosions, the rubble, eaten alive before his eyes.

But Jesus. Their first meeting. That mischievous look in his eye. He offered a world of opportunity, of hope, of unconditional love. And for once he was finally really seeing it.

Daryl blinked, staring at Maggie’s face, she was so strong. Fierce determination on her soft face as she pushed and pushed. She was radiant, like a goddess. He put his other hand over hers’ holding onto her wrist. Maggie was a leader he could follow, every bit as great as Rick.

He could feel tears streaming from his eyes but he didn’t care. He thought of how proud Glenn would be, of this, of how it was all happening. So many people gathering outside that door, waiting for that beacon of light. And honestly that was the great thing about life, it always kept going in one forward direction, never faltering, or losing momentum. 

Everything suddenly grew silent, the sun shining bright from in between the curtains.

“Oh,” Dr. Carson’s mouth slightly parted before becoming a wide smile. And then there crying. It shook Daryl.

Maggie’s head fell to the side, staring forwards, then focusing on Daryl’s face as she relaxed. She licked her lips, her grip on his hand loosening. “How does he look? Tell me.”

Daryl nodded. He moved towards to the doctor who was cutting the umbilical cord. Harlan held the small baby in his hands, cradling him. Beside Daryl, Jesus was looking too, his eyes bright with expectation. Daryl felt him instinctively grasp at his hand as soon as they caught sight of Hershel Jr.

_Beautiful._

That was the only word Daryl could think of. His eyes grew large before looking straight into Maggie’s exhausted gaze. “He looks like a little badass.”

Jesus and Aaron burst into giggles, the tension easing.

“That’s one way of saying it,” Carol said flatly. “He looks great. He’s a handsome boy.”

Maggie shut her eyes and nodded. Carol took the baby from Harlan, wrapping the child in a blanket, then placing him on Maggie’s chest.

Maggie looked at him in complete adulation. “God. He’s the best little thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she said softly, her voice breaking. Her green eyes were overlooking Hershel Jr, taking in every detail, every expression he made.

With his forearm, Daryl wiped what was left of the tears of his eyes, moving backwards, staring at the image before him like it was some painting he couldn’t quite understand then, but could understand now.

“So,” Jesus was looking deep into his eyes, the rest of the world moving except for them, “What do you think?”

“What do I think,” Daryl repeated in a hoarse mumble, he laughed to himself. “A lot’s happened. I think I saw my life pass before my eyes.”

“What did you see,” Jesus blinked curiously.

“I didn’t see nothing new. I just accepted it. I never did before,” he looked down at his fingers still intertwined in Jesus’ who was there, his eyes larger than before, deep green or blue, or a mixture of the two. But he saw him in all his color. No more background noise, no ghosts beckoning him to run, none of that mess. All he saw was Jesus. He was nothing short of absolutely breathtaking. There was a sense of calm, a calmness he thought he’d find in death. He never would have imagined this, he was very much alive and albeit a bit wiser. Daryl continued, “All I know is we’re living in borrowed time, and honestly…with you here, every last fucking breath is worth it.”

Jesus beamed, trying to collect his words. They were surprisingly simple. “Yeah well, Daryl Dixon, the feeling's mutual.”

**The end.**

 


End file.
